


The Gift

by Greysgate



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Danny Whump, Gay For You, Horror, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 55,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: The team goes to a weird planet and meet a seemingly peaceful human population, but danger lurks outside the city walls at night, and they find out the horror that awaits them when one of their number is stricken with a strange, confusing illness.





	1. Nightfall

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to make this a gen story, but a wise friend convinced me it HAD to be slash. And so it is.

_Death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it._

\-- Erich Maria Remarque

 

 **Prologue**

**_Abydos, 1994_**

Daniel held the staff weapon in his hands and aimed it at Jack, praying for some way to keep from sacrificing the brave soldier who had led the mission to that alien world, the man who had trusted him to bring them all home. 

Skaara’s flash of light from the crowd signaled the beginning of the uprising, and moments later he and Jack were hidden among the Abydonians, in robes hastily flung over them, mounted on the back of the _mastadge_ that had taken such a liking to Daniel.  

Together, they raced off over the dunes, where the two of them were quickly separated from the crowd.  A massive sandstorm swept in, forcing them to dismount and stumble blindly, following the animal's shaggy bulk.  For what seemed like hours they wandered, trusting the animal they to find the way home, or to some shelter where they could wait out the storm. 

Drained from his emotional and physical ordeal, Daniel grew so weary he could no longer keep up with the Colonel as they trudged along behind the huge beast, the wind howling around them.  He dropped to the ground and fell on his side with his face half buried in the sand, aware that his consciousness was slipping away.  

A moment later, Jack knelt beside him, shielding him from the flesh-stripping power of the gritty wind with his own body.  “Jackson!” he called frantically. “Come on, get up!” 

But Daniel simply didn’t have the strength to continue. He roused with the other man’s mouth on his, forcing air into his lungs. For a moment, he just lay there, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. 

“Breathe, dammit!” Jack growled at him, covering his mouth again. 

Daniel jerked his head away, but didn’t have the strength to respond. His mouth had been filled with grit driven in by the relentless wind. Thirst clawed at his mind, dried up his throat, but they had no water with them. 

“Don’t you die on me!” the Colonel demanded harshly. Then his voice cracked with emotion. “You hear me?  Don’t you _die_ , Jackson!  Please.” 

“Okay,” Daniel whispered, hoping he could be heard above the screaming wind. Then he felt Jack’s hands scraping over his chest, moving the heavy burden of sand that had collected there and had been slowly smothering him. Daniel tried to lift his hands, but found most of his body deeply buried. 

“Fell asleep,” Jack panted. “Didn’t realize we were being buried. You quit breathing. Must’ve been the sand suffocating you.” 

The load got lighter, and Daniel realized then just how close he’d come to dying… again. The storm still raged around them, but Jack was no longer kneeling by his head. He hauled Daniel upright, pulling him tightly against his chest. Daniel rested against Jack’s body, his face tucked just under the older man’s chin. 

Jack pulled his robe around both of them and held on, his arms around Daniel’s shoulders. Daniel slipped his arms around Jack’s ribs, offering what body heat he could against the frigid desert wind. The world inside those robes was small and close, filled with the heated air of their breathing, a tiny oasis of life struggling to withstand the death-dealing storm. 

Daniel thought of Nut, the Egyptian sky goddess, always shown positioned like an arch over Geb, god of the Earth, protecting her mate, sheltering him with her body made of stars. The image was comforting, filled with peace. With _love_.  

Jack relaxed with a weary groan, leaning against Daniel as much as the other man was leaning against him, propping each other up.  Jack’s cheek was pressed against Daniel’s hair. “Sorry about the close quarters,” he called above the wind. 

“It’s okay,” Daniel assured him. Jack was saving _his_ life now, evening the score. Daniel didn’t know how long they sat like that, their arms entwined around each other, their bodies being slowly covered by the sand, breathing each other’s breath, not a word passing between them. 

Hours drifted by, and in that cocoon of safety, something happened between them.  Barriers slipped. Emotional doors opened, and it was as though Daniel could sense the other man’s thoughts. Curious, he opened himself to that experience, flinging open the boundaries of his soul. 

The Colonel seemed to be filled with a great yawning void of grief, edged with rage and self-loathing.  Daniel didn’t understand the source of those emotions then, but knew it was pulling the warrior away from life, slowly, by degrees.  That O’Neill was doing his best to protect the geek who so irritated him offered a little hope that there was something left to salvage, but just barely.  The slender thread of life that vibrated between the two men in the warm, moist air bound them up together, one inextricably tied to the other. As needy as he was, Jack still cared enough to protect him, and Daniel, as weary as he was, freely gave of his strength and support to his teammate.  

Eventually, the cold drove them back to sleep. Daniel slipped slowly downward until he fell over again and Jack struggled to stay upright, shielding him from the storm. The _mastage_ still stood patiently nearby, calling mournfully for the man with the candy bar, and soon afterward, help came in response to the animal’s cries.  A group of Abydonian boys found them and brought them back to safety.  

In the same way, Daniel led Jack back to life through the bonds of friendship that now stretched between them, reeling him in with words of hope, and unspoken promises of support for and belief in Jack O’Neill.  

* * *

 

That was how it began between them.  Within days, they were separated by the enormous gulf between Earth and Abydos, but once he was back home, Jack continued to feel the subtle pull on his heart, the sensation that part of him was still out there, a universe away.  

Eventually, after he retired again, he bought a telescope and took up stargazing, hoping that some night, when the sky was clear, he might catch a glimpse of the Abydonian sun in the distance, and through the glimmer of its faint light, somehow reconnect with the man who had saved his life and sacrificed his own to do it. Daniel had gotten a miracle, being resurrected in that alien machine, and a chance at a new life.  As much as Jack had wanted to really get to know him and let that friendship blossom, he hadn’t forced Daniel to return with the team. 

Instead, he and his men had lied to General West, to give Daniel the life he wanted. 

They hadn’t spoken of what had passed between them during the storm, but it had changed both of them. Jack had seen it in Daniel’s eyes as he and his team had prepared to step through the Stargate to go home.  They were friends, connected way down deep in a fashion that neither of them understood, but both equally treasured. 

Daniel Jackson was still out there, living in a remnant of Earth’s ancient past, and as long as Jack O’Neill had breath in his body, he would continue watching over Daniel, a universe away. 

* * *

 

  ** _2003_**

 ** _P7X – 666_**

"Welcome to Wonderland," mused Jack O'Neill with a note of uneasy suspicion in his voice as he scanned the alien landscape upon exiting the Stargate. 

The ‘gate was surrounded by forest, but there were no trees in sight.  Vegetation of a different kind reached into the hazy, late afternoon sky. Bare, spongy trunks the size of mature oaks stretched upward, all ghostly pale in shades of gray, white, yellow, and tan. High overhead, each smooth, barkless trunk was capped with a thickly frilled parasol in a riot of colors. 

SG-1 stood in a forest of giant mushrooms, toadstools, and other fungi. 

"Anybody seen a big honkin' caterpillar with a hookah?" the Colonel asked no one in particular. 

"This is wild!" Sam breathed in wonder. "It's just like the MALP transmissions showed it would be, but actually experiencing it for real is just… incredible." 

"Welllll," drawled Daniel, "if the growing conditions for these species are the same for those on Earth, that means lots of warm damp and darkness." He looked down at the verdant carpet of velvety moss beneath his boots. "Ditto for the moss. Never seen the stuff so deep! It's up to my ankles." 

"I do not like this world," Teal'c rumbled, frowning mightily. His eyes shifted around as he studied everything with a deeply suspicious expression.  His grip around the shaft of his staff weapon was firm, ready.  The place obviously gave him the creeps. 

"Yeah. My spidey-sense is tingling, too," agreed O'Neill, finger lightly stroking over the safety on his P90. “Never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I think I’m starting to miss trees.” He glanced around them and sidled up to the DHD, which stood in a cleared area in a patch of wan sunlight. Around the base grew a field of knee-high garlic plants that would have to be trampled on to dial home. 

The Colonel stomped up to the device and pressed the keys. While the ‘gate spun up, he ambled over to the MALP to report in to the base. "Smells like a pizza kitchen here," he told the General once the event horizon stabilized. "Garlic and 'shrooms everywhere. No sign of anybody from that village the UAV mapped out." 

He glanced up at the misty sky. "It'll probably be dark by the time we get there." 

"Good luck with first contact," Hammond radioed back. "I'll expect a report from SG-1 in twelve hours. Hammond, out." 

Jack switched off the MALP to save the battery and ordered the team to move out.  

They walked due east, taking in the strange landscape and the odd alien creatures that skittered and slithered out of their path. Wanting to get to their destination before twilight, they jogged a good portion of the way and arrived breathless and sweaty just as a heavy silver-plated gate was being pulled across a gap in the massive stone walls surrounding the town.  

"Hey, wait up!" Jack called. "Company's comin'!" He waved at the two men straining against the gate. 

The villagers glanced up at the visitors, up at the sky, then at each other. Without a word, one of them ran off into town and the gate stopped its progress. The other man gestured to them to move faster. 

"Hurry!" the man called, his speech heavily accented with slurred vowels and rolled r's. "Help me close the gate. Darkness falls, and the Ferretu will be coming to hunt! We must be indoors by then." 

The team sprinted the last few yards. 

The team pressed against the gate, every hand splayed against the ornately inscribed silver surface, driving it closed. The villager watched them, not offering to help, waiting until the gate clanged into place to give them a smile. 

He wiped his hand off after screwing the lock down and then held it out to the Jaffa first, and the others in turn.  "I am Radu," he told them. "Come. I will take you to the Sing. She will find a place for you to stay the night." 

"Thank you, Radu," said Daniel warmly. He introduced the team as they walked quickly down the wide cobbled streets. "What is the Sing? I mean, I understand she's a woman of some importance, but I don't understand the title. What does it mean?" 

Radu shrugged. "She is the Sing. She knows all the lore of the Ferretu, and keeps us safe from them." 

Daniel exchanged a perplexed glance with Jack. "Okay. So what are the Ferretu? I don't know that word either." 

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Radu just stared at him. "You must come from _very_ far away, then." 

"Yes. Through the Stargate." He saw that the villager showed no signs of recognizing that term.  

"The _chaapa'ai? Annulus? Circ Kakona?_ Stone ring? That big thing about ten miles out in the mushroom forest. Has another device standing nearby in a field of garlic." 

Radu frowned, thinking. "We do not go so far from town.  It is not safe there. I will ask the Sing if she knows of this thing." 

Daniel tried again. "We're from another world," he explained. "The Stargate is a portal that connects them and allows us to travel to other planets, like yours." 

The villager's face relaxed into a smile. "Yes, we have legends of this device. They say we came from the Old World, long ago." Sadness settled over his features. "But once we arrived here, we could not return, because of the Ferretu." 

"What are they?" Daniel prodded. 

Terror haunted Radu's dark eyes. "They are the ones who hunt us." An involuntary tremor ran through his body.  “Bad luck to speak of them.  The Sing will tell you all you need to know.” 

He turned away and gestured toward a large building at the center of town. It was brightly lit inside, yellow lamplight peeking out through the tall, narrow slit windows barred with thick silver cages. Around the doors and windows were festive garlands of dried garlic, peppers and small dried mushrooms. 

Blue twilight had fallen as they approached the door, and Radu hurried them inside, locking the thick wooden door behind them. He sighed with relief and smiled. "We are safe now, but you _must not_ go out after dark." He headed toward another set of doors in the foyer. "We are preparing the harvest feast. You will be our welcome guests, and I will introduce you to the Sing. Please wait here." 

He stepped through the doors and closed them after himself. 

Jack sidled up to Daniel. "You get a good look at the buildings on the way in?" he asked quietly. 

Concentrating, Daniel frowned. "The architecture suggests Eastern European origins; Carpathian, maybe. Perhaps late Middle Ages. Radu's accent confirms the region, but—" 

"I was talking about the _fortifications,"_ Jack cut in irritably. "The walls look a foot thick on every house. And the wall around the town – that one's a good six feet of solid stone. Silver burglar bars on all the windows, and those not much more than arrow slits -- there's gotta be a good reason for needin’ that much protection." 

Daniel set his hands on his hips. "Well, they're obviously afraid of the Ferretu, whoever they are."

He paused. "I keep getting mental pictures of these tiny little weasels, hopping around their ankles." 

"Huh?" 

"You know, _ferrets_. Ferretu?" 

Jack just stared at him without a flicker of comprehension. 

"Must be something else.”  Lost in thought, Daniel scratched idly at his cheek and offered Jack a fleeting smile.  “I'll keep working on it."  

"Uh-huh. Yeah. You do that." Jack turned as the doors opened again, and Radu came to retrieve them. 

On the far side in the brightly lit hall, a crowd of villagers dressed in finery filled the room. Music started to play, with a tribal beat and a chorus of voices that lent a decidedly jazzed-up Gregorian air to the party. Women wore long dresses with white bodices, and men sported thigh-length tunics with wide white shawl collars over blousy trousers, with boots beneath. 

Jack noticed the looks on the villagers' faces as they wended their way through the crowd. Slightly apprehensive, all. Everyone turned to watch as the newcomers were introduced to an elder woman seated at the back of the room in an ornately carved wooden chair on a slightly raised dais. 

Radu bowed to her. "Greetings to the Sing," he intoned formally. "I bring you visitors. They claim to have come from another world, through a stone ring in the forest." 

Surprise flickered in her bright blue eyes. She stood up, gathering her white shawl more closely about her shoulders. She was stooped with the weight of time, her ivory skin softly pleated with wrinkles. Long, snow-white hair was pulled up into a chignon, pinned to the back of her head with a long, silver pick topped with a glittering green jewel. Though she was old, her expression offered clear evidence that her mind was still sharp and bright. "From the Old World, perhaps?" she asked the strangers, her voice trembling with age.  

Daniel stepped to the front of SG-1.  "Possibly," he told her. "We think your people may have originated on our planet, which we call Earth, and traveled here through the Stargate. Or possibly on space ships, as slaves of the Goa'uld." He smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Daniel Jackson, and these are my friends. We’re peaceful explorers—“ 

"What is this… Goold?" she interrupted, her brows twitching together as she took Daniel’s hand. 

"Go-ah-oold,” Sam corrected with a smile.  “They're a race of alien beings who use humans, like us, as hosts.  They pretend to be gods, and have enslaved people on many worlds."  Sam grasped the proffered hand.  “Major Samantha Carter. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” 

"We have not heard of these Goold," the Sing declared, sticking to her own pronunciation. She dropped Sam’s hand and smiled at her guests, her frank gaze including all four of the visitors. "But we do know a little of the Old World. We would learn if there remain any of the Ferretu there?" 

"Well, since we don't even know what Ferretu are, I'd say there probably aren't any.  Or maybe we call them by another name," Daniel declared with a shrug.  "After all, our world has changed a great deal since your people left it." 

The Sing nodded, taking in their strange clothing and weapons. "I would wager you speak the truth, by your appearance." 

She turned to Jack, eyeing him up and down.  "You are the leader, yes?  You have the look of quick decisions about you. You are impulsive, a man of hot temper, dangerous when stirred up, like a wildfire.”  She tilted her head and studied him for a few seconds.  “But, I can see, you are also capable of much warmth.” 

A smile broke out on Jack's face. "Well, uh… thank you, ma'am, and yes, I'm in charge of our team. Colonel Jack O'Neill, at your service,” he added as he took the hand she held out to him. 

The old woman guided it toward his face, and Jack understood he was supposed to kiss it. She seemed like a nice enough old lady, so he did. Something about her style reminded him of his late Nana O’Neill. 

The Sing turned her attention to Sam. "studying the foursome.  “A flower among three thorns, I can see.”  

Everyone politely snickered at her small joke, but she sobered immediately.  "Strong women are a rare blessing, my fair one. They can be both gentle breeze and devastating storm." 

Sam just grinned at her. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Stepping over to Teal’c, she looked way up into his stoic face.  “And what are you called, my dark prince?” 

The corners of Teal’c’s mouth turned up in a tiny smile.  He inclined his head as he gazed down into her upturned face.  “I am called Teal’c of the Tau’ri,” he rumbled with pride. 

"You are strong, not unlike your Colonel, solid as the earth itself, yet capable of great destruction when shaken.”  The Sing reached out with one bony index finger and poked Teal’c hard chest, as though to test him.  “But you are…  _different_ from the others. You wear the same clothing as these three, but you are not cut from the same cloth, are you?”  

Teal’c didn’t answer, only stood, still as a statue, regarding the alien woman.  

“Well, whatever your origins, I _like_ you, Teal'c,” she declared, patting his shoulder. “We shall endeavor not to arouse you to anger, and make you welcome, instead." 

He gave her an elegant bow in return, smiling slightly at her poetic description of his nature. 

Finally, she turned to Daniel. Her eyes roved over him from Boonie to boots and back again. She took his hand and guided him to turn around as she examined him.  When he turned slowly back to face her, his cheeks were slightly pink from being studied so openly. 

The Sing chuckled. "You dress as these soldiers and carry weapons as they do, but truly, you are not one of them,” she surmised, a wave of her hand taking in Daniel’s teammates. "You _do_ have strength, but it is the strength of water, which has the power to wear away stone and quench bold flames. You are a scholar, are you not?  A man of learning and thought. Tell me, my young friend.  Why do you travel with warriors?" 

He smiled at her assessment and offered a slight bow of respect. "We're peaceful explorers," he explained. "But sometimes we need to be able to defend ourselves. I'm still learning that skill." 

She eyed each of them in turn. "Fire, wind, earth, and water."  Raising her thin arms and opening them wide in a gesture of acceptance, she declared, "We welcome the Elementals to our world. Please, join us in our harvest feast." 

With a glance behind her, she motioned for the young woman standing near her chair to approach. "Rawnie, see to our guests." 

Rawnie tossed her mane of thick black hair over her shoulder and stepped forward with a wide smile. Ignoring the rest of SG-1, she took Daniel's hand and led him out onto the dance floor. He stood still, watching her dance around him with abandon, then began to shuffle uncertainly from one foot to the other. 

"There he goes," Jack observed with a note of resignation in his voice. "What is it with him and alien women?" 

"He is quite a delicious young man," the Sing observed gaily, settling back into her chair. "I am not surprised women are attracted to him. Like a _panit_ to _heram_." 

"Or a bee to honey," O'Neill returned. "I didn't think he was that… uh…" He flipped his hand in the air, grasping for a word that wouldn’t make him sound like he’d been looking at the other man, since he hadn’t. 

Carter grinned at him. "Oh, yeah, Colonel. Daniel's _quite_ the babe. He just doesn't know it." She laughed. "Which actually makes him even _more_ of a babe. But don’t worry. He doesn't have that effect on me. I think of him as a brother."  

"Daniel Jackson, intergalactic babe.”  Jack shook his head, trying to grasp that impossible concept.  ”Carter, the human race is doomed." 

 He looked around and decided, "Well, we might as well hang it up and party.”  He clapped Teal'c on the shoulder.  "Make friends, big guy.  Be popular, as always."  He made shooing motions at Carter and T.  “Food awaits. Schmooze. Go on, mingle, but keep an eagle eye out."  

Then Jack turned to the Sing. "Do you dance, ma'am?" 

"Not for a long time," she chuckled with a shake of her white head. 

"Good. Neither do I,” he confessed with a smile.  “You hungry?  Can I bring you a plate of something?" 

Her eyes twinkled. "That would be very nice, Colonel. Thank you."  

He ambled off toward the bountifully laden table, his P90 still around his neck, keeping a watchful eye on his team.  

* * *

 

“We have no ruins,” Rawnie explained to Daniel as she led the way through the revelers, toward the back of the great hall. “We made our village strong, to last, so our buildings do not fall down.” 

“What about temples, then?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at his team, all mingling with the aliens and doing their jobs. “What gods do you worship?” 

He really ought to tell Jack he was leaving, but they’d done this a thousand times. He knew this kind of people, and when SG-1 were so readily accepted, the natives rarely had anything to hide. 

Ignoring Rawnie’s question for the moment, Daniel’s gaze settled on Jack, who seemed entranced with the Sing, smiling at her as he so rarely did with strangers. He really seemed to like the old woman.  Daniel didn’t want to bother him.  After all, Daniel wouldn’t be gone long, and the village was pretty small. But protocol demanded, so with a sigh of resignation, he obediently touched the button on his comm. unit.  “Jack?” 

The scratchy reply came instantly. “Daniel? Report.” The Colonel’s eyes scanned the room until he located his teammate. 

“I’m just gonna go for a tour of the village with Rawnie.”  Daniel waved at him from the back of the room near the doorway. ”I want to get a look at their temple.” 

“Take Carter with you,” Jack ordered. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Jack,” Daniel assured him. “The village isn’t that big and it’s totally enclosed.” 

Daniel saw Jack glance down at his watch, then say something to the Sing. Finally Jack gave a nod and the radio activated again. “All right.  But stay sharp,” Jack’s voice cautioned from his shoulder. 

“I’ll be careful,” Daniel promised.  He turned and followed Rawnie through the arched doorway. 

It was quieter in the corridor, and cooler, too. He’d been starting to get a little hot from all the collective body heat and dancing, and the little bit of wine he’d had was making him even warmer. 

He was distracted by his thoughts and didn’t quite hear what she was telling him, but followed her out of the party, leaving his friends behind. 

Rawnie led Daniel out of the great hall, his hand in hers. She was smiling, a look of mischief in her eyes. He found her charming, pretty, and flirtatious, but she also seemed quite intelligent. From conversation while they danced, he’d learned she was the Sing's apprentice, though what exactly the Sing did was still unclear. 

Down a series of halls she led him, telling him brief histories of the people in the huge portraits hung on the walls, though they moved by most of them so briskly that he didn’t get much of a look. His attention was so fractured it was hard to keep track of where they were going, in case he had to find his way back alone. The place was like a maze, with all the twists and turns and passageways leading off from one building to the next, all of them seeming to radiate outward from the great hall. 

She took him into what appeared to be their temple, with three statues behind the altar, all wearing veils hiding the deities' faces. He was interested, of course, and went up to the altar to examine the tools of ritual on display there, murmuring aloud to himself while he strolled about the temple, looking at everything and trying to decide where he should start studying more intently.  

At one point, he turned around to ask Rawnie's permission to look beneath the veils, but she was gone.  He called out to her a couple of times, even stepping back into the corridor to look for her. He was concerned when there was no answer, but he decided to return to his examination of the statues until Rawnie returned. He knew he could always use his radio to call for help if needed, and give her a little time to finish whatever errand had sent her off on her own. 

He shelved the idea of peeking beneath the veils, meaning no disrespect, and tried to discern the identity of their goddesses using other clues.  Moving toward the inscriptions chiseled into the stone in a frame all around the altar, he started to read out loud.  _“Hecate, all powerful goddess and protector._ That’s interesting. Triune Greek goddess of night, magical empowerment, mutation—“ 

"Daniel," Rawnie called out a moment later. She’d returned to the temple breathless and bright-eyed, her cheeks flushed with excitement and a broad smile showing off her perfect white teeth. "Come and look.  I've brought someone to meet you." 

Ready to receive a warm introduction, he turned, starting to smile and offer his hand, but he stopped short when he caught sight of the young man at her side.  There was something odd about him, aside from his elegantly chiseled face and long blond hair. He moved with an unearthly grace as he crossed the room, and his expression was one of pure pleasure, utter serenity and superiority. He looked like a born aristocrat. 

"Daniel Jackson," the archaeologist said, introducing himself with a voice gone strangely flat and mechanical.  His mind was awhirl with the tickle of intuition tugging at his thoughts. There was something _not right_ about this young man, but Daniel couldn’t put a finger on what, exactly, that might be. 

He couldn't take his eyes off that gorgeous face. The pale sea-green eyes were haunting, compelling.  They looked… _dead_. Soulless.  A great yawning void of evil, sparkling with cunning intelligence.  

And there was a scent on the air that made gooseflesh rise on his arms.  Daniel looked questioningly at Rawnie. It _had_ to be her. It smelled like… _womaaaaan,_ revved and ready. His body reacted, and for some reason, he didn't mind a bit that it did.  Without a trace of embarrassment or self-consciousness, Daniel was only pleased when he felt his cock thicken and lengthen, pushing against the restraints of his clothing. 

"This is Mihnea," she whispered, a note of pride in her voice. She had possessively interlaced her arm around the elbow of the stranger.  "He is the man I love." 

_Love,_ Daniel thought. _Sex. Yes.  Now._

His mouth watered. He felt light-headed. Euphoric. Intoxicated. _Horny as hell._ His erection tented the front of his pants, his balls heavy and tight between his legs.  It was all he could do not to grab onto himself with both hands and try to relieve the pressure. 

His eyes strayed back to the young man's face, seeking the source of the growing current of desire that threatened to sweep him completely away. It _couldn’t_ be the man, could it?  Well, maybe it could.  Daniel felt his resistance to that taboo fading quickly as he looked into those beautiful, otherworldly eyes, glittering with lust… _for him_.  Daniel didn’t feel that way toward men; at least, not toward _most_ men, but he couldn’t seem to move or speak to protest or announce his orientation.  

Part of him rebelled, screaming at him to leave, to run away, that there was danger there, but the greater part of him wanted to stay, curious to discover why this guy seemed so incredibly magnetic _. Sexy._

"You are from another world, yes?" asked Mihnea. "You know how the stone ring works, do you not?" 

"Yes," Daniel replied lazily.  He ignored the niggling voice at the back of his mind, reminding him that he wasn't supposed to reveal things like that to aliens, until the ground rules had been laid and treaties signed.  "I know the addresses of hundreds of worlds.  I've been to many of them already." 

"Then you must join us," Mihnea announced, his voice a sensual purr. He reached out to touch Daniel’s shoulder, letting his hand stroke slowly down the sleeve of his uniform, leaving a trail of gooseflesh under his fingers. "Your knowledge will help our people to survive. Our race was dying before you came. In one generation, we would have vanished completely, but now you offer us… _salvation_." 

"I do?" Daniel was vaguely aware that he was holding the other man's hand, and that it was cold. 

_Cold as death_. 

Mihnea smiled. His eyes glittered with an unholy desire. "Yessss, you do, Daniel. Let me kiss you, to show my gratitude. It is our custom. And afterward… I have a gift for you. A very precious gift." 

Mesmerized, Daniel stared into those eyes. The young man was beautiful. Daniel wanted— 

A new wave of lust hit him in the pit of his stomach.  He swallowed audibly, gasping through his mouth as he fought to stay alert.  His dick was hard, hot against his thigh. Visions fleeted through his consciousness, fantasies of this young man, naked and aroused, spread out on the floor beneath him while Daniel pounded fiercely into his body. He clenched his teeth, hunger rising, sweeping away reason. He was _sure_ he’d never felt this way before for any man, but Daniel knew he _had_ to have this one. 

Without another coherent thought, Daniel reached out and wrapped the fingers of one hand around the nape of Mihnea’s neck, grasping a handful of golden hair.  He drew Mihnea fiercely to him and kissed him on the mouth, hard and merciless, demanding. The chill of Mihnea’s lips shocked Daniel, but he couldn’t stop. Didn’t _want_ to stop kissing him. 

Mihnea’s hands stroked over Daniel, pulling him closer, and then the stranger pulled his mouth away. 

The alien’s cock was hard and cold, like a huge Popsicle thrust against Daniel’s belly. They rubbed together, groaning and jerking, lost in the throes of passion. Daniel’s heartbeat speeded up as the other man unbuttoned Daniel’s fly. He gasped in shock as icy fingers touched his overheated cock, freeing it from his clothes. Daniel felt Mihnea’s cold hand touch his face, those frigid lips press not against his cheek, but against the side of his neck while they clutched and strained against each other. 

He wanted to move, to push Mihnea down on the floor and take him, but he couldn’t let go of him. He was frozen in that sensual grip, his heartbeat thrumming wildly in his ears. 

Something sharp scraped his skin, followed by a lancet pain, piercing him deeply.  A minute or so went by while warmth gushed out, filling that cold mouth suckling his neck. 

Daniel whimpered, his knees getting progressively weaker, his thoughtless, desperate lust vanishing abruptly in the wake of a painful, shattering orgasm. In his mind, he cried out, _knowing_ that this was wrong, that he was dying, that Mihnea was _feeding_ on him, but he couldn’t give voice to his horror.  

His knees buckled and he fell, his vision graying as he slipped toward unconsciousness.  He was distantly aware of a soft cloth being pressed to his neck, and then cold fingers cleaning off his spent cock and tucking it back into his pants.  Voices sounded a moment later, but Daniel couldn't understand the unsteady echo of noise. Something cold and viscous dribbled onto his neck and oddly, he felt his flesh begin to seal up, his lifeblood cease to flow as the wound quickly closed.  

Then a limb was pressed to his lips.  It was a cold wrist, sticky with chilled gore.  "Drink," a tinny voice commanded. “Taste. _Know.”_

Daniel shook his head as the metallic taste filled his mouth.  Tears sprang to his eyes.  A sob escaped him.  He tried to fight, to refuse to cooperate, understanding instinctively that what was happening was horribly wrong, dangerous, _inhuman_ , but he had no choice.  The cold blood trickled across his tongue, and he swallowed involuntarily.  And then unable to stop himself, he sucked, drawing more of it into his mouth, weeping at the salty, coppery taste.  

Mihnea jerked his arm away and straightened. 

Rawnie’s voice, somewhere above him, was soft, filled with wonder. “It never ceases to fascinate me how quickly your wounds heal.”  

Minhea turned to Rawnie and smiled at her, touching her hair. "You have done well, my love," he cooed. "Soon the Ferretu shall spread across the universe. No longer do we fear the extinction looming before us! And we owe this to an unexpected visit from strangers who would be our friends." He kissed her, chastely, on the cheek. 

She pressed herself against him. "Take me with you, Mihnea!" she begged. "I am ready to join you now. Give me the gift, too." 

He shook his head. "Not yet, my beloved," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "Not yet. There is still much for you to do for me." He stepped away from her, glancing down at the man on the floor. "Watch over him, my love. And when it is time, you will help him return to his world… as a god." 

She nodded as she watched Mihnea draw away. Hurrying out of the temple after him, she accompanied him to the nearest exterior door, removed the bar, and replaced it when he had gone out into the night. 

With head high, she returned to where she had left Daniel on the floor near the statues of the goddess. She took a bowl of sacred water from the altar, and began to wash away the evidence of what her lover had done with the man from Earth. 

* * *

 

Sometime during the course of the party, when it was getting very late, Jack became aware that Daniel hadn’t yet returned from his explorations of the village with Rawnie.  Jack had gotten caught up in conversation with the old lady, and now realized with a start that more time had passed than he had realized.  

He touched the controls of his radio. “Daniel, report.” 

There was no reply. Jack looked around at the natives clustered around Teal’c and Carter. They were open and friendly, and had an air of innocence about them that soothed Jack’s worry. His gaze wandered back to the Sing, and he knew instinctively that he could trust the old gal. She didn’t seem to have a deceptive bone in her body, so Jack decided to be patient and check again in a few minutes. 

Maybe Daniel was off somewhere getting lucky.  If he were, it’d be the first time since he’d been all glowy, but then Jack knew Daniel didn’t work that fast.  It’d been a long time since Daniel had shown any sort of attraction to a woman, and he needed that kind of jostling of his hormones. He needed to be reminded now and then that he was a man, and let nature take its course. It was hard enough to get him to drop his work and go home to sleep, much less have a social life. 

Not that Jack himself was much better at that sort of thing. He didn’t date, didn’t feel the need. He figured he was too old for that sort of nonsense, but a pretty woman walking into view could still draw his eye and make him wish he were younger and less dented.  He missed kissing, having a significant other waiting at home for him, not to mention the more exciting parts of being close to someone. But like Daniel – hell, like the whole team – they put the SGC and its objectives first and themselves dead last. Opportunities to get naked with someone came rarely.  

Jack lifted his cup of punch in silent salute to the absent man, hoping he was enjoying some real quality time with the little hottie, and not looking at some dusty old artifacts somewhere else in the village.  Which, he thought to himself, was entirely too possibly exactly what Daniel was doing, off on his own, away from his Colonel’s watchful eye. He’d give Daniel another couple of minutes to answer, and then he’d gather the team and start looking for him if there were no reply. 

* * *

 

"Where the hell have you _been_?" Jack demanded hotly as Daniel and Rawnie returned to the great hall. "You haven’t reported for over an hour!” He checked his chronograph to punctuate his irritation as he, Carter and Teal’c stood in the doorway of the great hall, just about to go after their missing man, now returned to them in apparently perfect health. 

Daniel smiled and shrugged. "Everything’s fine, Jack. Rawnie was just showing me around, that’s all. The great hall here connects to almost every house and building by way of enclosed passageways. It's a maze, if you don't know your way around. I reported in when we were on the way back and I realized I was totally lost. I wasn’t sure how long it would take us to get back here, so I thought I’d better let you know I was okay. We didn’t mean to worry you."  

"Sometimes it is even difficult when you _do_ know your way around, if you are not paying attention to the path," Rawnie added, laughing. Her eyes sparkled as she walked with him, her hand tucked into the crook of Daniel's arm. "We were in no danger, Colonel, though we got a little lost. Do not worry." 

"I wasn't worried," Jack lied. In truth, his stomach had been tied up in knots as he’d waited, watching the minutes tick by with no response from his second summons. He’d signaled the rest of the team, bringing them to the doorway to reconnoiter, preparing to give Carter the order to stay put in the hall to report in if Daniel returned, while he and Teal’c would be searching the corridor down which he had disappeared. 

Daniel had chosen that exact moment to call in, and they’d waited for him to return with his guide. It’d taken him ten minutes to arrive, and he was slightly out of breath when he got there. 

O’Neill eyed the archaeologist, noting something about him was different, and not in a good way. "You feelin' okay? You look a little pale."  He inhaled, trying to get a good whiff of Daniel, without being obvious about it. He looked okay, smelled perfectly normal and, aside from his lack of color, seemed calm and at ease. 

"I'm fine," Daniel assured him as they headed for the banquet table. "In fact, I feel _great_. A little tired, maybe. But other than that—" He shrugged and didn’t finish the thought. 

The Colonel watched the young woman take a sweet bun and nibble on it, sipping at a cup of punch she’d poured. He also noticed she didn’t offer anything to her special guest, and Daniel made no attempt to indulge in the sweets just in front of him. That was unusual.  But maybe Daniel _had_ gotten lucky and just wasn’t interested in food right then. 

The young woman had a twinkle in her dark eyes, full of secrets, and the way she was looking at Daniel— 

Jack was _certain_ something had happened between them. Even if it were just a really hot kiss, there were hints of intimacy that he recognized instantly. For some reason, that irritated Jack, and so did Rawnie’s presence. 

"Well, did you find anything of interest on your tour?" Jack asked, leading the way toward the Sing’s chair at the back of the room. Carter caught his eye and, with a nod, he sent her back to the group of elders she had been chatting with earlier. Teal’c stayed behind them, always aware and on guard, so Jack felt he could concentrate on Daniel for a few moments. Jack wanted answers, and he wanted them now. 

"I haven’t found anything significant yet, but we've got plenty of time to look for more interesting things." Daniel cleared his throat and looked decidedly like he was about to deliver some unpleasant news. "Uh, Jack, I did find out that the nights here are in the neighborhood of 22 hours long at this time of year. Days are only about eight hours. We won't make the deadline for reporting back to General Hammond." 

That sent a ripple of warning through Jack, but he shook it off. "Sure we can. Just a ten-mile jog back to the 'gate in the dark—" 

"No," Rawnie said sharply, her dark eyes flashing with alarm. " _You cannot go outside in the night!_ It is too dangerous." She glanced at the Sing, who nodded in agreement, overhearing the group as they arrived in her presence again. 

Jack patted his P-90 and smiled. "We brought protection, thanks."  And speaking of which, he wondered if Daniel had used any _protection,_ because he was pretty sure he detected the faint odor of feminine arousal on his friend. Daniel had apparently gotten busy with the little hottie, and Jack didn’t like it one bit. He knew Daniel was aware of the dangers of unprotected sex with aliens, because that had been drummed into the heads of every SG team since his disastrous encounter with Kynthia on Argos, but whether Daniel had used a condom or not remained to be discussed between the two of them in private. He stared hard at the smug little bitch, wanting to hate her, but he didn’t know her well enough for that. 

"Yeah, and we still don't know what Ferretu are," Daniel stated, turning to look at the Sing before turning back to Rawnie. "Like, how big are they, how fast they move, what they look like.  All that would be helpful to know." 

Rawnie looked up at Daniel from beneath her lashes, her chin tucked down. "They are like _us_. Only different. Stronger. Deadly. They have great power, and they do not die easily." 

"Like us?" Daniel asked uncertainly. "You mean they're people?" 

Rawnie nodded. She turned away, her head down, glancing at the Sing to take up the narrative. 

The old woman’s voice was grave. "They claim many of us each year, in spite of the precautions we take. We watch those whom we love add to their numbers and are helpless to stop it." 

Jack shot Daniel a meaningful glance, temporarily distracted from his reaction to Rawnie by the informative conversation. "Wonder if they might be a rogue breed of Goold, or somethin' like that? Maybe like us on the outside, but hosts on the inside?"  

Daniel pondered. "It's worth checking out." He clasped his hands behind his back and directed his question to the old woman. "Have your people ever captured one of these Ferretu and studied them?" 

"It has been done, long ago," she told him. "Though it is not safe to keep them prisoner." 

"Not safe?" Daniel repeated. His heavy brows twitched together. "If you have them locked up, how can they hurt you?" 

"They have _great_ power," the Sing repeated enigmatically. "They are able to persuade their keepers to let them go. Or even to become willing _victims_." 

Rawnie lifted her chin with pride, her gaze on the old woman seated beside her. "Our Sing knows more about the Ferretu than any who came before her. She is very wise. If anyone can help them and end this curse, it will be her."  

Jack and Daniel exchanged another look. "So being a Ferretu is like being sick," Jack clarified. "They have a disease of some kind that makes them… ah, _hunt_ others who aren't sick?" 

"Yes." 

"And what do they do with the people they catch?" 

The Sing swallowed visibly and closed her eyes. "They feed upon us," she said in a hoarse whisper, her lined face growing pale. 

“Welcome to the _Twilight Zone_.” Jack cocked his head and eyed the Sing. "I don't suppose you've seen _'Night of the Living Dead',_ have you?" At the blank look he received, he added, "Didn't think so.” 

Turning to Daniel, he asked, “So.  Wanna go zombie hunting later?" 

The archaeologist gave Jack a secretive smile. "I'll stay indoors, thanks anyway. And I think we should wait 'til morning to check in at the Stargate. Rawnie told me the Ferretu don't go out in the sunlight." 

"They're still human," Jack countered. "We can kill 'em if they go medieval on us." He glanced around at the medieval decorations in the medieval building, and the people in their medieval clothing, suspecting the Ferretu would do just that. There was just something about the setting that made his mind rush to weird places. 

The old woman sighed and touched his arm. "No. Please.  Believe me, your weapons may be useless.  I have seen a Ferretu brought down by a sword's blow that nearly cut him in two. He healed before the swordsman could pull his blade free, and killed the man with his bare hands, snapped his neck like a twig. Not a mark was left on the Ferretu as he walked away in one piece… laughing at our poor attempt to defeat them." 

"Oh." Jack pictured grisly scenes from the old black and white film, of zombies being knocked down and getting right back up again to stagger on toward their live dinner. He offered a humorless grimace of a smile, his heart sinking at the predicament they’d unwittingly gotten themselves into that trip.  "Then maybe we'll just be a tad late reporting in." 

“And I think we should try to find out more about these Ferretu,” Daniel added. He gave a polite half-bow to Rawnie. “Thank you for a most interesting evening.” He smiled at her. 

There were secrets in his eyes.  Jack noticed the look passing between them. He hadn’t seen obvious attraction like that in his teammate for a long time. And aside from that, something about Daniel was different, but Jack couldn’t pin it down. He hoped it was simply the aftermath of a good poke. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Didn’t like Rawnie, and wanted to question her in private, without Daniel around. 

Jack turned to the apprentice and smiled. “So, you folks got any interesting weapons? Medicines? Stuff you might wanna trade?” 

She took him by the hand and led him back to the banquet table, pushing a cup of wine at him, which he politely declined. With a smile, Rawnie stepped closer. Jack let her, only now he wasn’t so sure of his earlier conclusion that she and Daniel had gotten frisky with each other. He sniffed again, hoping to catch the scent of his teammate on her, and doing his best to be discreet about it. As far as he could tell, she just smelled like clean woman, and that was all. 

“We do have some powerful medicines, yes. But we have yet to find a cure for the Ferretu, or weapons that will deter them. They are far more powerful than mere humans.” She gave a delicate shudder. “Almost like gods.” Her eyes opened and she glanced around guiltily, as if concerned that she might have been overheard speaking blasphemy. 

He tried to remember what the chick had said last, off balance with this whole issue of what might have happened in some dark corner between her and Daniel. It was damn distracting, and he was having a hard time concentrating on matters at hand. “So, what kind of religion do you folks practice?” 

“We worship the goddess who is three. Whom do you worship?” 

“I’d rather hear about your goddess and that three thing. I don’t get that.” Jack listened to her, not really paying attention except to look for any clues that might indicate this goddess of theirs was a Goa’uld. Nothing she said rang any bells or sounded familiar in the least, so eventually his mind wandered off to other things, and his eyes sought out his teammates while the young woman chattered away at his side. He threw in occasional nods and smiles to make her think he was still listening, but what he really wanted now was an avenue of escape. 

Rawnie was hardly stopping to breathe, and Jack began to wonder if this was why Daniel had been gone so long, and why he had been so willing to ditch her at Jack’s side in order to talk to the Sing. Then he remembered that it had been his own idea to get the girl off alone, not Daniel’s. So when the subject of her monologue turned to other things, Jack found himself wanting to just drop his plate and run. Only he was acting as an official representative of Earth, and that would be rude, so he had to stay and hope that one of his teammates would notice and come rescue him. 

By rights, it should be Daniel, since he was the one most recently cursed with this non-stop chatter. 

Fortunately, one of the young men from the village asked Rawnie for a dance, and she went away happily, leaving Jack in peace. He heaved a sigh of relief, rubbed a weary hand over his face and sagged against the nearest wall, thoroughly wrung out from his latest near-death experience. 

Jack watched the party and his team, having fulfilled his duty to check out the potential dangers in that alien place, and finding there were plenty – not including the mind-numbing chatter of that young woman. Jack had decided that she wasn’t really a threat, just a big honkin’ pain in the ass, and shouldn’t really be classed in the same category as the enigmatic Ferretu. 

The team would have to wait until daylight for their return trip to the Stargate, so he busied himself watching over his people. Teal’c stood at the best vantage point – right beside the Sing’s chair -- and surveyed everyone, but at one point the Sing engaged him in conversation and even had him smiling a couple of times. Daniel had moved away and was talking with a mixed group of folks seated near the foyer doors, and Carter’s hands were waving in the air as she talked to a trio of gray-haired scientist types. The team were all apparently doing their jobs, and he shouldn’t be worried about anything. 

He let his gaze go back to Teal’c and the Sing. Jack decided he liked the old lady, and that she was most likely the best source of information on what her people had to offer. 

Obviously, with the threat of the Ferretu, their usefulness to these people was limited. But if Fraiser could pull another rabbit out of her hat and find a cure for the disease that caused human beings to go zombie, they’d earn lifetime friendship with these folks. He could hope that was how it turned out. They’d present the problem to Hammond once they got back, and the general would determine whether or not it was worth the risk. 

Carter seemed engrossed in her conversation with the elders, discussing possible technological and/or medical items that might be of interest on both sides. Jack watched her for a few minutes, then scanned the room to look for the fourth in his party. Daniel was on the dance floor – again – only now he seemed to have found his groove thang. 

Jack’s brows drew together as he studied the man. He’d known Daniel for ten years (if the year he was gone on Abydos counted, and he wouldn’t leave out the year Daniel was a fluffy white cloud), yet never in all that time had he seen the man look so downright _comfortable._ Daniel was always just a little on edge, slightly out of place, searching for somewhere to belong and never quite finding it. Now, however, he was picking up the native dances and adding to them, gyrating his hips and shaking his ass like _Michael_ Jackson. 

That was so _not_ the Daniel Jackson he knew.  Something was wrong with that picture, and Jack needed to find out what it was.  It was… disturbing, seeing him like that, and Jack struggled to push the feelings it stirred in him away.  He kept watching, unable to tear his gaze away. 

Daniel was smiling, his face relaxed. He leaned in to his newest dance partner and whispered in her ear, his fingertips brushing her cheek. To his left and right two other women were dancing – also with him. And as Jack watched, totally incredulous, he noticed other women in the room drifting toward Daniel, leaving their partners, and joining in.  Soon Daniel was surrounded by smiling, starry-eyed women, all gyrating to the beat of the music in what could only be described as a suggestive way. 

Carter stole up to his elbow, grinning from ear to ear, her eyes on her science twin. “Wouldja look at that! The doctor of babeness is definitely _in!_ ” she breathed. “I didn’t know Daniel had it in him. _”_

“He doesn’t,” Jack shot back grimly. The more he watched, the more certain he was that he could hear Twilight Zone music playing in the background somewhere. “But somehow, his intergalactic babeness factor just went through the roof. These women must be _really_ deprived.” 

“Hey, Daniel’s a good looking guy, sir,” Sam informed him.  When Jack glared at her, she quickly added, “Do you think he wants to be rescued?” 

Jack shook his head, his eyes pulled back to Daniel and his harem.  “Nah. Let him enjoy it. Probably the only time in his life this’ll ever happen.” 

But something about the _women’s_ reaction was wrong, too.  Alarm bells were going off in Jack’s subconscious.  He was listening, but there was nothing in the world he could do about it but wait and watch, and stay alert. 

He didn’t like what he was seeing, and wanted to push all those women away.  They had no right to be looking at Daniel like that, flaunting themselves at him. Daniel was _Jack’s_ – rather, he belonged to _SG-1_ – and those women couldn’t have him. 

The party went on until the wee hours by Jack’s watch, and Daniel showed no signs of slowing down.  He smiled and touched women’s faces as if he were a rock star and they were his groupies, dancing with them, always out in the middle of the floor.  The more time passed, the more erotic the dances got. Daniel held the women close, teaching them to Lambada, all but having sex with them on the floor.  As he moved around through his crowd of admirers, his hands started stroking over his own body through his clothes, making Jack’s mouth go dry and his pulse quicken. 

Jack was worried about him, but more disconcertingly, he was embarrassed at how the sight of Daniel shaking his ass affected him. Daniel, on the other hand, was making a fool of himself and didn’t seem to care. This behavior was so un-Daniel-like that Jack knew for certain something was up.  He just didn’t have a clue what it was. It bothered him, irritated him that this guy who was so out of it socially seemed to have found the key to being Mr. Popularity all of a sudden. He tried not to watch, to concentrate on Carter and Teal’c, but invariably his eyes strayed back to Daniel and always stayed there far too long, with an unsettling response he didn’t want to name burning way down low in his belly. 

Jack noticed the Sing watching his archaeologist as well. She and Teal’c had stopped talking, and the Jaffa stood at parade rest beside her chair. The old woman’s eyes never left Daniel’s form, until she looked up at Teal’c and said something to him, pointing toward the dancing man. 

Teal’c gave her a polite nod, then moved away to one of the food tables. He picked up a small sweet roll and a clay cup filled with fruit punch, and made his way through the sea of women to offer them to his friend. With a smile, Daniel just shook his head and turned back to dancing. 

Jack looked at his watch. It had been nearly eight hours since Daniel had returned to the party with Rawnie, twelve hours since they’d arrived on that twilight world. And in all that time, Jack hadn’t seen him eat or drink _anything_ since he got back to the great hall after the tour. The younger man was known for ignoring his appetite, especially when he was busy. But liquids – especially coffee, when he could get it – were Daniel’s lifeblood. Even in the field he pulled more often at his canteen than any of the others. 

Daniel hadn’t had a drink in a long time. He was bound to be thirsty, especially with all that physical activity. Another red flag went up, and Jack started looking for other things, anything that would give him more information. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was a necessity. 

Near 0400 hours Earth time, people started drifting away, going home to their beds. The Sing showed the team to a small room just off the main hall where beds had been set up for them, bade them all good night, and admonished them to remain inside at all costs. Tired as he was, Jack volunteered to take first watch while the others got some rest. 

Without a word, he watched Daniel unlace and remove his boots and get into one of the beds, humming a snatch of one of the tunes from the party.  Carter took another bunk, and Teal’c settled into a corner with a couple of candles to do a little meditation. Jack moved into a shadowy corner and sat on a stool, his hand on his P-90, and his mind on full alert. 

As he waited, he wondered again what had happened during the missing time Daniel had been out of sight. Whatever it was, Jack was _certain_ now that it wasn’t good. 

* * *

 

Daniel tossed and turned on the borrowed bed. He had trouble sleeping, and when he did manage to nod off, he had disturbing, vivid dreams that brought him bolt upright beneath the blankets. Nights were cold on this world, and though he had removed his boots before climbing into the bed, he simply couldn’t get comfortable in his clothes. He flung the covers back and took off his jacket, shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before getting back under the blankets again. He was still too warm, even though the chill in the air registered against his skin. 

“You okay?” Jack called softly from the shadows in his corner. 

“Just restless, I guess,” Daniel sighed. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” 

“Must be you,” Jack replied. “I could use a blanket, myself.” 

Daniel got up, stripped one of the covers off his bed and walked directly over to where Jack sat on a stool in the darkened room. He draped the blanket over Jack’s shoulders and tottered back toward the bed. 

“You’ve got good night vision,” Jack observed. “It’s almost pitch black in here, but you knew exactly where I was.” 

Daniel could see his commander clearly, with nothing but the light of Teal’c’s distant candles illuminating the entire room. Daniel grinned and pointed to his face. “My, what big eyes I have,” he teased. “I’m light sensitive. With pupils this big, I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed.” 

“What, that you look like you’re on drugs all the time? Yeah, I’ve noticed. I just didn’t say anything. Figured it was the daily overdose of caffeine.” 

“Nah. My eyes have always been like this. Sunlight’s a killer without prescription shades.” Daniel slid down beneath the sheet again. He turned onto his side. Then he turned back to face Jack. 

“If you’d try being still, you might get some sleep,” Jack suggested helpfully. 

“I’m itchy,” Daniel countered. “Maybe I’m allergic to their bedding materials.” He sighed and closed his eyes, rolling onto his back. “G’night, Jack. Wake me when it’s my turn at watch.” 

“ ‘Night, Daniel.” 

With a sigh, Daniel folded his hands across his chest and belly. He let his mind settle, imagining it drifting down like a feather dropped from a high place. It was a trick he often used to get his busy mind to cooperate and shut down enough to let him rest. Only tonight it wasn’t his mind that was responsible for his insomnia.  It was his body calling to him.  He felt the warmth of his hands, the ridges of his fingerprints resting against the short, sparse hairs on his torso. Smooth skin sheathed plates of toned muscle, rising and falling as he breathed. There was something innately sensual about his hands, and he began to move them slowly over his body, feeling the ripples and curves of solid form beneath his skin. He felt electric, aroused, aware of himself in a way he had never been before, and he felt compelled to explore. 

Lower and higher his hands drifted, one sliding over the bulging bicep of his arm while the other halted in the rough hair at his crotch. He heard himself rumble with pleasure as he touched his body in that private place, letting his fingers drift idly over his awakening penis. He hadn’t enjoyed the pleasures of his body for far too long, and at that moment, even though he was in a room full of other people, he wanted this moment of sensuality. 

But he was sure Jack would hear him, and he didn't want that invasion of his privacy. Solo sex would have to wait until he was home again. He didn't like having an audience, and Jack would criticize him in private if he indulged in that semi-public place. He sighed and thought about his last sexual encounter with anything other than his own right hand -- Kera, nearly four years back. He needed a girlfriend, but there was slim chance of finding one anytime soon. Alien women never worked out, and he was never on Earth long enough to make a connection that could turn into anything of quality. 

Daniel sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he'd be celibate for quite a while. He thought about women… how they smelled, how they felt when he was making love to them, and as the night wore on, he slipped deeply into sleep, and dreamed. 

_Cold. Cold on his neck.  
_

_Sharpness grazing his skin. Piercing him.  
_

_Fear, making him turn, making him want to fight.  
_

_Something else, something sexy, centering him, arousing him.  
_

_Yes, yes,_ this _… Do it. Yes!  
_

_Something pressed to his lips.  
_

_Drink. Taste. Know.  
_

_No! I won’t. I can’t… No…  
_

_Too late.  
_

_It was done, and he lay on the floor as something cold poured onto the holes torn in his neck. He could feel the flesh closing, sealing up the darkness inside him.  
_

_Daniel cried out in his dream, a whimper of defeat as the metallic taste flowed into his mouth and down his throat. He had no choice, and he surrendered, though his mind screamed at him to fight.  
_

_He didn’t know how long he lay there. He could see Rawnie’s feet, pacing restlessly nearby. He could hear her talking… to Mihnea, he remembered. They spoke in whispers as he lay on the temple floor, sure he must be dying. And then his eyes closed. Time passed, but he wasn’t sure how long.  
_

_He awakened with a start, his hand going automatically to his neck. The wound that should have been there was gone, healed almost completely. He could feel strength coursing inside him, changing him. Already his eyesight was sharper, his sense of smell more defined. He felt good… sensual… sexy. Power radiated from him, and it felt_ wonderful _.  
_

_Slowly, carefully, he rose.  
_

_Rawnie smiled at him and tugged the collar of his jacket up to hide the mark on his neck. She brushed off the debris from the temple floor that clung to his jacket, took his arm, and steered him back toward the great hall.  
_

_“You will be better now,” she told him. “Stronger. Smarter. And when you return to your world, you will bring to it the salvation of a better way. But you must tell_ no one _, Doctor Jackson. Only you and I may know what has passed in this sacred place, of the gift that has been given to you.”  
_

_Daniel smiled in his sleep. He would be going home soon. And when he did, he would be a new man.  
_

_He would be the first of the Ferretu on Earth._

Daniel opened his eyes to the dark room, chuckling silently. 

No, he would not be the _first_. The Ferretu had been legend on his world for millennia, in countless cultures, but most prevalent in the area of Eastern Europe that this alien culture mimicked. Somehow, these people had come to this world and brought the plague with them, and the Ferretu had gradually disappeared on Earth, save the tales told in the dark of night to frighten small children.  

He understood the words now, his clarity of thinking much sharper than usual. 

The Sing was the one who kept the lore and directed her people how to fight the Ferretu. 

And reaching far back into literature and whispered history, he knew now where the words originated. 

The Sing was most likely a descendant of _Van Helsing_ , carrying on as chief hunter of the children of the night. And they were _Noseferatu_ – Ferretu – who walked in darkness, preying on human beings and drinking their blood to slake an unquenchable thirst. 

Daniel Jackson was becoming a _vampire_. Logic told him he should be horrified, afraid; yet he wasn’t. He was curious, almost anticipating what was happening to him. Soon, he could have anything – anyone – he wanted. 

He glanced at the shadow in the corner, knowing Jack couldn’t see him smiling in the darkness. 

_Soon, Jack_ , Daniel told himself. _Soon you will belong to me._

* * *

 

Sam thought she smelled something, but the whiff seemed to disappear as quickly as she sensed it. Her turn at watch would be over in a little while, though the darkness would remain for a few hours yet. She was restless, sensing something not quite right, but unable to pinpoint where the problem lay. 

Checking her watch, she woke the Colonel and touched Teal’c on the shoulder to rouse him _._ Then she moved to Daniel’s bed and put a hand to his arm to wake him.  

“Holy Hannah!” she cried, jerking away. Whirling around, she spotted Jack lighting a lamp near his bunk. “Colonel, Daniel’s cold as ice. If he weren’t breathing, I’d think he was dead.” 

Instantly, Jack was at Daniel’s bedside, his hands touching the sleeping man’s forehead and patting his cheek. “Daniel,” he called. “Hey!  Wake up! Tell me how you feel.” 

Languidly, Doctor Jackson stretched beneath the covers and smiled, opening his eyes just a crack. “I feel fine, Jack. What’s the problem?” 

Sam watched the Colonel study the man in the bed, looking him over, searching for signs of… well, she really didn’t know what he was seeking. She saw O’Neill grasped Daniel’s chin and turn it to the side. He grabbed the lamp off the table between the beds and held it closer, examining a small red mark on Daniel’s neck.  Shock and horror skittered across the Colonel’s face, to be replaced by anguish. 

“ _Not_ zombies, like we thought,” Jack muttered, his voice sounding so tight Sam thought it must hurt his throat to speak. He cursed and straightened up, setting the lamp back down. “Something a lot worse, if that’s even possible. Dammit, Daniel! One of those things _got_ you.” 

“One of what things?” Daniel asked sleepily. He didn't bother sitting up, but tucked one hand lazily behind his head, the middle fingers of his other hand tracing slow circles on his bare chest. 

Sam stared at him. She’d never noticed how well built he was under his usually rumpled clothes, but this guy had a _great_ body.  And his face!  How come she’d never really noticed his perfectly sculpted jaw line, those full lips, the cerulean blue of his eyes and those gorgeous long lashes?  He really was _incredibly_ hot.  She’d joked about it with the Colonel, but now she could see it clearly for herself.  Daniel Jackson _was_ a babe, and that knowledge made her feel all warm and gooey inside.  She was also freaked out, big time.  There was just something wrong with that assessment of a man she considered a brother. 

“Quit the dumb act, Daniel,” Jack rasped. He seemed to struggle for words for a moment. He swallowed hard, more pain and anger in his eyes than Sam had ever witnessed until that moment.  “The Ferretu. One of ‘em bit you, didn’t they?”He glared down into Daniel’s serene face. “Only that’s not what we called ‘em, back on Earth. They’re goddamned _vampires_ , aren’t they?” 

Carter felt her heart drop into her boots, in shock. “Oh, God, sir!” She bent over Daniel, searching for the spot on his neck. “Vampires?”  A fading suction bruise darkened a place just above his carotid, and two fine red dots marked the remains of puncture wounds. It wouldn’t have been easy to see, hidden by the collar of his BDU jacket as it must have been during the party last night. But half naked as he was now, the mark was obvious, even in the wan amber lamplight. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daniel insisted, sitting up in the bed. He looked Jack right in the eye as he spoke, his expression intent.  “Nothing happened to me. I’m fine.” 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed numbly, his expression now vacant and bland. “He’s fine.” He stood up and moved away, eyes glazed, his body language mechanical. 

Daniel looked at Carter. “I’m fiiiiine,” he repeated, staring into her eyes, stretching the last word out a little with emphasis. 

She felt her mind go blank. “You’re fine,” she heard herself agreeing.  Riveted, she looked into those beautiful, blazing, brilliant blue eyes, not at all surprised to feel her vagina pulse with a sudden gush of wetness.  She _wanted_ Daniel.  _Now._   She was helpless in the face of her need, her knees weak, her mouth slack, horny beyond belief.  

Teal’c’s hand settled on her shoulder. “DanielJackson is _not_ fine,” he told her with a small shake. “MajorCarter, why did you and O’Neill say that he is well, when he so obviously is not?” 

She turned her face up to the Jaffa. “Huh-- ?” 

“MajorCarter… are you all right?” 

He turned his gaze to Daniel, his eyes narrowing. “DanielJackson, are you manipulating them?”  

A sly smile slid across Daniel’s lips. “Why would I want to do that, Teal’c?”  His eyes glittered, his head tilting in a most suggestive manner, all the while running his hands slowly up and down his own his chest, his hand drifting lower with each pass. 

The big man arched an eyebrow, pushing MajorCarter back and inserting his body between her and the archaeologist. “If you are, indeed, infected with this disease, you might wish to return to Earth and spread the infection further. We cannot allow this, DanielJackson.” 

Sam tried to step around Teal’c, but the Colonel caught at her sleeve and hauled her backward. She glared at him. He glared back, a distinctly jealous glint in his eyes. That pissed her off, and she started back toward Daniel’s bed. 

Teal’c’s arm lifted to catch her and bar her way. 

Daniel sighed in mock weariness. “Do what you have to do, Teal’c,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “But I promise you, I’m okay. Perfectly healthy. See for yourself.” 

Jack stepped closer and grabbed Sam’s uniform shirt again, fisting up the material between her shoulder blades, to keep her from getting any closer. 

She wanted to be right beside Daniel. She wanted him as close as it was humanly possible to get. Her mouth was watering, desperate for a kiss, a taste, a touch – anything he wanted to do to her, anything he could give her. Daniel’s expression was all come-on and promises. If she could just _get_ there… 

“Perhaps DoctorFraiser should be the judge of that.” Teal’c glanced at the Colonel, looking over Sam’s head, still holding her back.  “O’Neill, we might inquire of these people if they have secure facilities where DanielJackson might be held, until we are certain whether or not he has been infected.” 

Jack shook himself a little. His eyes cleared. “Uh… yeah. Don’t know what happened to me there. I kinda zoned out for a minute.” He eyed Daniel uncertainly and reluctantly released his hold on Sam’s jacket. “I’m gonna go find the Sing. You guys keep Daniel… at a distance. According to the old lady, this persuasion thing only works when you’re close.” 

“It does not seem to affect me, O’Neill,” Teal’c assured him. “Perhaps the tretonin in my body protects me from such influence.” 

“That’s good.” Jack headed for the door. "Make him put some clothes on and just keep him here." He glanced back at his team from the doorway, then closed it after himself.  

Sam stared at Daniel. The scent she kept smelling was stronger the closer she got to him. He smelled _gooood_. It made her hungry. Her mouth watered, and she wanted his dick in it. She didn’t care what might or might not have happened to him. That hickey on his neck could’ve been from that girl he’d gone off with last night. 

She thought he’d probably fucked her, and that pissed Sam off. She didn’t want the bitch anywhere near Daniel again. He was _hers_ , and she’d damn well show the little whore the next time she laid eyes on her.  

“DanielJackson, you must rise and dress, as O’Neill has ordered,” Teal’c intoned. 

Sam snatched up Daniel’s pants and ducked under Teal’c’s arm. He reached for her shoulder, but she shook him off with a glare, then turned and held them out to her teammate. 

She smiled at Daniel. “Hey, want me to go make some coffee? I have some in my backpack. That special blend you like so much.” 

She sat down on the side of his bunk, vaguely remembering the Colonel’s warning to keep her distance, but ignoring it. She wanted to fuck Daniel, just strip off her pants and mount him, right then and there. She didn’t even care if Teal’c watched.  There was nothing wrong with Daniel.  He could be trusted, and she wanted to “trust” him right through the mattress. 

“MajorCarter,” Teal’c rumbled. “You must move away.” 

Daniel’s eyes dilated as he smiled at her, both of them ignoring the Jaffa. “No, thanks. I’m not thirsty, Sam. But it was nice of you to offer.” 

There was something innately wrong with that answer, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think what it might be. “I wouldn’t mind. Really.” She clenched her thighs together, the throbbing need increasing exponentially. 

Daniel sat up and took his pants from her, his fingers drifting lightly over her hand, sending sparks through her arm and right to her crotch. “That’s sweet of you, Sam, but I don’t want any coffee.” He smiled at her seductively. ”I do think we should be going home soon, though. These people don’t really have anything we want, and there are other places waiting to be explored.” 

“I was just thinking that,” she giggled, eyes glazed. “We’ll go as soon as Colonel O’Neill gets back.” She leaned closer, inhaling deeply, sniffing near his neck. “Oh, man, I can’t _wait_ to get you home…” 

Daniel lifted his chin, encouraging her to come closer. 

Teal’c’s hand grabbed her BDU jacket and hauled her off her perch on the side of Daniel’s bed, almost flinging her across the room.  

“Hey!” she cried, rounding on him, mightily pissed off. “What’s the big idea, Teal’c?” 

She could see the startled horror in his dark eyes. “You were about to _kiss_ DanielJackson, MajorCarter,” he declared. 

“So?” 

“O’Neill warned us to keep our distance.  If DanielJackson is ill, we cannot take the risk of his passing the illness on to you.  Can you not see that yourself?” 

The logic of his words made terrifying sense as the need to fuck Daniel vaporized. Carter couldn’t explain why she had behaved like that. She _had_ been about to kiss Daniel, for cryin’ out loud, which was just wrong on way too many levels. Daniel was _not_ a sex object in her book. There was something vaguely incestuous about that idea. 

“Whoa,” Sam breathed. She backed toward the door. “Teal’c, I don’t think it’s safe for me to be in the room with him. You seem to be the only one who’s immune to his… charms.” 

Daniel was still reclining on the bed, one arm behind his head, a studied look of feigned indifference on his handsome face.  His eyes followed them as they talked about him. 

“Indeed.” The Jaffa eyed Daniel.  “Perhaps you should wait outside for O’Neill and the Sing to return.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, already heading toward the door. “Jeez. Ewwww. I need some air.” She rubbed her face and left the room. 

Once outside their room, everything seemed to change. That wonderful male aroma was gone, along with the cobwebs in her mind and the twin driving needs to go home and get laid, not necessarily in that order.  

She was horrified at her behavior.  This was certainly a dangerous development, and if Daniel were infected, she was sure he would never go home unless a cure could be found.  She leaned against the wall in the corridor, her insides twisting up with fear.  Deep in her heart, she knew her friend and teammate had already gone over to the other side. 

Daniel was a Ferretu. A vampire.  An image of him in a long black cape came to mind, and when he smiled in her imagination, his canine teeth were long and sharply pointed. That was not something they could bring back through the Stargate with them. Not _ever_.  

* * *

 

Jack stomped along beside the old woman, headed back to the quarters he and his team had shared through the night.  

Carter was standing outside, pacing the floor with her head down, worry obvious in her expression. She stopped walking and straightened as they approached. 

“Sorry, sir, but I was falling under his influence,” she explained, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I had to leave Teal’c seems to be immune.” 

The Sing stood very still. “You felt it, then? The pull? The desire to comply with his wishes?” 

Sam swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am. I believed everything he said. And I would have done whatever he wanted.” She rolled her eyes guiltily up to the Colonel’s face, knowing she was blushing beet red. “And I mean _anything.”_

Tension intensified in the elder woman’s face. She sighed heavily. “And there were marks on his neck?” 

Jack closed his eyes briefly, the tone of his words far lighter than what he felt. “Yup. Great big hickey. We just didn’t see it last night because of the jacket collar.” 

“This is why our people wear clothes with open necks, and white cloth surrounding them. If one is bitten, the slightest drop of blood will show.” The Sing bowed her head. She looked at Jack with genuine sorrow in her eyes. “I wish your visit to us could have ended pleasantly, with new friendships, Colonel O’Neill. Now you have lost one of your number to our curse. My heart breaks for your loss.” 

“Maybe,” Jack ventured cautiously. “I’m not ready to give up on Daniel just yet. You folks got a secure holding cell where we can keep him for a little while?” 

“Yes, though what good it will do you—“ 

“Just give us a chance to get started with figuring this thing out,” Jack told her. “Bring some help from home.” 

Already he was thinking of Janet Fraiser, of how often she had saved their asses from alien diseases. The only problem was, they couldn’t risk taking Daniel back to the base in that condition. Jack remembered all too well how Hathor had manipulated everyone into doing her bidding. If Daniel were capable of that sort of thing now, it was a risk they simply couldn’t take.  Fraiser would have to bring her medical expertise to this world, and do her best to find a cure where these people had come up empty-handed. 

“There are tests to determine if a person has been infected,” the Sing told them. “I will perform them now.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small device, fixing it to her nose to pinch her nostrils shut. 

“What’s that for?” Jack asked. 

“The Ferretu emit a scent that clouds our minds and stimulates us to the madness of mating,” she explained.  “If we cannot smell them, we are less easily manipulated by them.” 

“Then it wouldn’t work with me,” Jack argued gently. “He’s a guy. I’m a guy. No chemistry.” 

The Sing smiled knowingly and shook her head, her eyes twinkling with knowledge. “With the Ferretu, gender does not matter. A male can create the scent of a woman to seduce another man, or heighten their natural scent, to persuade a woman. The sickness creates the scent, and they will lure you, regardless of your sexual preference. Beware, Colonel O’Neill. The Ferretu are dangerous creatures. Even more so when they are someone who already holds a place in your heart.” Her smile faded into abject sorrow. “How long has your team been together?” 

“Seven-ish years,” Sam answered. “Daniel and the Colonel have known each other for almost ten years. We’re practically family.” 

The Sing’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Then you will all be especially at risk, for he will draw on that connection and use it to force you to comply with his wishes. The scent is not the only weapon in his arsenal, Colonel. He knows your secrets. He knows what hurts you most deeply, what moves you most profoundly, and he will use these things to control you. Each of you. All of you.” 

Colonel and Major exchanged a glance, and said nothing. 

The old woman stepped into the room. Jack and Sam followed her in, though she gave them a warning glance as they closed the door. “Say nothing to him,” she instructed gently. “And if you are in danger of being swayed, I will help you. You will recover once you are outside.” 

Jack looked at Daniel. He lay on the bed wearing just his pants, his chest and feet still beautifully bare. As they approached, he stretched lazily and smiled at them. Jack glanced at the Jaffa. “I thought I said to make him get dressed?” 

Teal’c inclined his head, frowning mightily. “He would not, other than this. I did not think it wise to touch him.” 

Nodding, Jack accepted that and turned his attention back to their linguist. 

“Jack. Sam.” Daniel eyed the older woman. His eyes were cold, knowing. A hint of smile touched one corner of his mouth. “Greetings to you, Van Helsing.” 

The older woman frowned, obviously surprised. “How do you know this name?” 

“Isn’t that who you are? A descendent of the original? Keeper of the lore?” 

“There are few on this world who still know that name. I fear you will be particularly dangerous, Doctor Jackson, if you are, indeed, infected.” 

“I’m not sick,” he assured them emphatically. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his posture erect, head high, shoulders squared. “None of you have anything to be concerned about. We should just pack up our gear and go home. There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

The old woman reached into her pocket and tossed something at him. 

Instinctively, Daniel reached out to catch it, but then he quickly flung the item away from himself, shaking his hand and gasping in pain.  He glared accusingly at the little silver ball rolling across the floor as the Sing picked it up. 

She tossed it to Jack.  The ball was cool in his palm, but didn’t cause the reaction it had in Daniel. 

It looked like Daniel’s hand had been burned when he held it palm up. Jack could see black marks where the ball had made contact. _Strike one._ Jack didn’t need to see any more. He already knew the diagnosis, and his insides curdled. He stepped back, to one side of the old woman, his heart heavy with fear and dread. 

“What do I have in my pocket?” the Sing asked Daniel. Her hand reached into a deep pocket in the front of her skirt. Her fingers brushed against something that made dry whispers as it moved. 

“Garlic,” he replied with certainty. “I can smell it from here, but you don’t need heightened senses for that.”  He gazed up at her with a low chuckle, as if they had shared some small joke. 

He smiled. “You’re a very intelligent woman, Van Helsing. We could talk about all kinds of cultural deviations from Earth’s history…” He stood up, leaning on one hip, posing in a way that showed off his muscular body, letting one hand stroke downward from the middle of his chest to his abdomen, heading lower. “All we need is a little time to chat, maybe some privacy—“ 

“For crissake, Daniel!” Jack groused as heat shot straight to his groin.  He struggled to swallow.  He thought of stepping up and blocking their view of Daniel with his own body.  His emotions were in a jumble.  Was he _jealous_ that the women were looking at Daniel, that he was showing himself off to them like that?  He stood there, inviting them with his posture, his wanton expression, his sexy eyes. 

“Damn it, Daniel, just stop!” Jack exploded. Adrenaline surged through his body, heating his face and clearing his mind. He stepped close to the bed, bent down and picked up Daniel’s T-shirt, discarded onto the stone floor sometime during the night. He flung the garment at the other man, and noted that Carter’s face was flushed red. Her eyes were wide and dilated, and she licked her lips in anticipation.  

She shouldn’t be looking at Daniel like that, Jack thought, instantly furious with her. Daniel belonged to _him_ and _no one else._ He turned back to look at his teammate, desire heating him up as he eyed that bare chest and those rippled abs. Jack’s gaze moved lower, and he could see the outline of Daniel’s dick in his clothes, already half erect. 

Jack was hard as nails himself, and didn’t give a flying fuck who knew it. Some part of his mind told him he should care, but he didn’t. He just wanted to pin Daniel to that ratty little bed and fuck him into oblivion, kiss that smug, self-satisfied little smirk right off his face, and make him scream as he came.  

Jack looked up at his friend’s face, shocked at what he was thinking; even more shocked to see that Daniel seemed to know what was scrolling through Jack’s mind. 

_Both of them naked. Jack all over him, thrusting and grunting. Fucking him. Fucking Daniel. Wild, sweet sex with that hot, horny man._

“Jesus,” Jack breathed, backing toward the door, dizzy with the wanton fantasies spiraling through his head.  This was scaring the shit out of him. “I see what you mean, ma’am.” 

Teal’c stepped slightly between them, glancing over his shoulder at Jack, obviously aware of his horror and ready to protect them all from the danger Daniel presented. Jack swallowed hard and shook his head. The Sing wasn’t done yet. Maybe there was more they needed to know. Jack forced his eyes back to Daniel’s face. 

The younger man smiled as he dropped the shirt, his movements slow, graceful… sensual _._ “Jaaack…” His voice was a deep purr. “Don’t get so upset. Everything’s fine. The ladies don’t mind looking at my body.  None of you do, right?” 

He turned to make eye contact with the older woman. “You all think I’m beautiful.” He winked at the Sing. “Because I am. It just took me a while to realize that.” Turning to Sam, he pursed his lips and blew her a kiss. 

Teal’c’s hands clenched into fists, his expression grim. 

Horror registered in Carter’s eyes as she stared at him.  The smile she had been wearing moments before now vanished utterly. Sam’s eyes went wide, mouth hanging open. She backed toward the door, her hands outstretched as if to ward off the evil she was really seeing for the first time. She practically stepped on Jack, who moved out from behind her, getting out of her way so she could leave the room. 

Jack glanced at her, shaken at the changes happening in their linguist – and in himself. “We’ve got to get word to General Hammond and get some medical backup here _ASAP_!” 

He looked over at Daniel, at the self-assurance in his every gesture, so alien to the man Jack knew so well. He felt the lust, the need to be close, and it disturbed him. He shouldn’t be feeling like that toward another man, but he recognized its source as an alien disease. He shouldn’t blame Daniel. It wasn’t his _fault_ , but that didn’t negate the danger he now posed to all of them. “We can’t take him home, under _any_ circumstances, not till Fraiser clears him.” 

Carter swallowed, her hand on the doorknob. “Yes, sir. Soon as it’s daylight, we’ll go.” 

“I have seen enough,” the Sing reported quietly. She sighed. “Your friend has been compromised. He is becoming a Ferretu.” 

“Becoming?” Jack repeated hopefully. “So he’s not _already_ one?” 

She shook her head. “The process takes several days to complete. Once his teeth are altered, he will be Ferretu forever. He is still changing, not yet fully one of the creatures.” She turned to face him. “But you will still be vulnerable to him. You should let us cast him out at sunrise. The light will slowly poison him, and before he can reach shelter outside the city gate, he will die from the exposure.” 

“No,” Jack said softly.  “Daniel’s our friend.  Like family.  We won’t just stand by and let him die like that.  Whatever happens, that’s just _not_ an option.” 

Jack eyed Teal’c and Carter. “There’s still a chance we can save him,” he told them.  

All four of them regarded Daniel, still standing by the bed in that provocative pose, not a shred of the man’s normally overt modesty in sight. Jack was torn up inside, because he knew those missing hours, when he hadn’t been vigilant like he should have been, might well have cost Daniel his life… or worse. 

“Come on. We’re locking him up and heading for the Stargate as soon as it’s light.” Jack turned to the Sing. “Leave him to us, if you don’t mind. We want to try to save him, if we can.” 

“Shall I stand guard over him, O’Neill?” asked Teal’c. 

Jack’s gaze lingered on the Sing for a moment before turning to the Jaffa. “Yeah. Do that. Carter and I will get word to General Hammond.” He glanced back at the Sing. “You got a secure cell for our friend?” 

She nodded with a heavy, hopeless sigh, her wrinkles deepening. “Come with me. We will restrain him with these.” From her pocket she withdrew a small piece of rope made from what looked like dried grass. 

Jack caught it after she tossed it to him, and brought it to his nose. “Braided garlic shoots,” he observed. “Not real sturdy stuff, here, ma’am.” 

“It will be stronger than he can break,” she assured him grimly. Tears misted her eyes and were blinked away as she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. She shook her head. “Such a waste,” she murmured. “Such a _terrible_ loss. I am sorry, Colonel O’Neill. For all of you, and for your friend.” 

Daniel raised his hands and backed up a step. “Look, that’s not necessary. I won’t resist. There’s no need to tie me up.” 

“You don’t get to make that choice,” Jack returned unhappily. He handed the rope to Teal’c, who moved up behind Daniel. 

Daniel darted away, putting his back to the nearest wall, holding his hands out in supplication.  There was a note of panic in his voice and his eyes. “No, please! Don’t tie me up. I don’t – I’m not going to hurt anyone.” He glanced at his commanding officer, his eyes wide and glimmering with very real, obvious fear. “Jack? Please!” 

Jack pressed his lips together firmly and gave Teal’c a nod. Taking a breath, Jack held it before they both moved in on Daniel, and Teal’c stood close while Jack reached out and grasped Daniel’s wrist.  He spun him around and pressed him hard against the wall, catching both hands and pulling them behind Daniel’s back. He expertly secured the braid around Daniel’s wrists, then stepped back to let him stand away from the wall, expelling his pent-up breath. 

For a moment, Daniel seemed fine. They directed him out of the room in the Sing’s wake, but a few paces down the corridor, and he started to shake. He was sweating and staggering after a few more steps. 

“I don’t feel so good,” he moaned. “Jack, _please_ take this off me. It’s making me sick. Please!” 

Looking into those familiar blue eyes, Jack tried desperately to shut out Daniel’s voice. 

“Jack, I’m okay!” he cajoled. “Why don’t you believe me? I’m not gonna hurt anyone. You _know_ me! Think of all we’ve been through together! Please, Jack. _Please_ untie me!” 

It made Jack’s insides twist up, hearing the obvious pain in his friend’s voice, but he had to ignore it. That arousing smell was gone, apparently dampened by the garlic bonds, but Daniel’s pleas were genuine and moving. 

Jack wanted to help him, not because of any chemical impetus but for the deeper bond they shared, forged in the sands of Abydos years earlier.  They _had_ to find a way to save him. Jack couldn’t imagine anything more terrible than becoming a vampire, making _food_ of people who were once dearly loved. His sense of horror was palpable and tasted like bile on his tongue. There were few things in life worse than death, and _this_ was most certainly one of them. Maybe at the top of the short list of things he wouldn’t wish on anybody.  

Jack watched as the Sing directed Daniel into a small, very dark room, not much more than a large closet, with a thick silver door. He staggered inside and Teal’c closed Daniel up in the little room, securing it with a lock that screwed deeply into the stone wall. 

“It’s dark in here!” Daniel whined, his voice muffled through the door. “God, Jack, I’m sick! Take me back to the base. I need to be in the _infirmary_! Please, please don’t lock me up. I’ll be quiet. I’ll be good, I promise!” 

Jack shuddered. He glanced around at the others, all looking to him for some sort of hope, except for the Sing. Her red-rimmed eyes were evidence of the grief she felt for all of them, but her blue gaze was steely and firm. She had obviously seen this same thing happen over and over again, always with tragic consequences. 

Daniel’s voice was strident. “Jack, don’t leave me!” he begged, dissolving into terrified sobs afterward. “Help me! Take me home, please!”  

Swallowing his heart back down, Jack leaned against the door, his hands pressed against its cool, ornately carved surface, the smooth metal chilly against his cheek. 

“I’m _not_ leaving you, Daniel,” he called through the barrier in the most reassuring voice he could muster. “Carter and I are going for help.”  God, he hoped that were true, that there was any damned thing in the whole galaxy that could help Daniel now.  “And T’s gonna be right here with you, just outside. We’re gonna get Fraiser, and we’ll be back. Just hang in there, okay? You’re not alone. No one left behind. _Remember_ that.” 

He stroked the door with his fingertips, petting it as if that might somehow soothe the frightened man on the other side of it. 

Daniel was wailing now, his anguish cutting through Jack’s heart like a scalpel.  “Oh, God, Jack! I _need_ you. Don’t go. Please don’t go! Stay here with me, _please!”_

Teal’c positioned himself in front of the door and Jack patted him on the shoulder, no need to give any order to protect their teammate, even from himself. It was already understood. A muscle twitched in the big man’s jaw, and Jack knew the Jaffa was feeling the same sense of helplessness and fear for their friend gnawing away at Jack’s own heart. 

Glancing at his chronometer, he started counting the minutes 'til sunrise. 

Jaws clenched, he walked away from that tiny prison with the horrific sound of Daniel’s pleas for mercy and support in his ears. _That_ wasn’t the Daniel Jack knew. His Daniel was brave and strong. Whatever fate had in store for him, he would face it with courage. Jack had seen that often enough, especially after coming back from Kelowna that first time. Daniel had smiled at him in the infirmary, trying to soften Jack’s pain as he calmly explained how he was going to die. 

Jack hoped that some part of Daniel Jackson was still like that, standing tall inside that pitiful creature, fighting for his life. It was the disease trying to manipulate those who loved Daniel, and for that, Jack and his team would show it no mercy. 

O’Neill and his 2IC headed back to the main hall and the door to outside to wait for the sunrise. There were tears in Carter’s eyes, quickly blinked away, and her expression was grim but determined as they waited in silence at the entrance. They _had_ to save Daniel. There simply was no other choice. And the only person who could do that now was Doctor Janet Fraiser. 

* * *

 

Daniel had cried impotent tears as the door swung shut, sealing him into utter darkness, but they had had no effect on his commander. Putting his shoulder to it, Daniel hissed in agony as the silver burned his skin.  He tried kicking at it near where the lock was, but it just hurt his foot. 

Jack had left him there, with Teal’c standing guard outside. Daniel tried calling out to Teal’c, who answered him intermittently, but then fell silent, deaf to Daniel’s pleas. 

The others didn’t really give a shit about him, and never had.  Hatred and a red haze of anger rose inside him at the way he was being treated.  He hadn’t done anything to anyone, and now they were locking him up like a criminal!  They could go to hell, and as far as Daniel was concerned, Jack O’Neill could lead the way.  

Everything would change soon. For the moment, these strangers and his teammates held the power over him, but he knew what they would do. An effort would be undertaken to cure him of this illness the Sing believed he had.  But then, there was potential danger of exposure to others of the SGC. Jack and Janet would have to weigh the cost of Daniel’s life.  Hammond would limit numbers to curb potential losses, and because Daniel Jackson simply wasn’t worth that much on his world.  His significant contributions were rarely acknowledged, taken in stride, or were simply ignored, for the most part.  Even on his own team, he was considered a nuisance more often than a contributing member. 

He wandered the confines of the cell, bumping into the walls in the dark. Granted, his soldiering skills sucked, but he didn’t really want to be a soldier, anyway.  Now, he only wanted to be what he was  -- or rather, what he was becoming.  He felt differently since he’d visited Hecate’s temple. He was changing inside, and it was wonderful. He _liked_ it. He was stronger now. Confident. Powerful. _Sexy._

He remembered the way the women had looked at him during the festival. It had aroused him. He’d reveled in the sensation of their attraction, letting it slither over his skin like a hot shower. For the first time in his life, he’d felt certain of himself, of his capabilities, his physical appeal. 

Thinking about it, he started to get turned on again.  He definitely wanted more, and he allowed himself to indulge in his fantasies about that for a while. 

As the minutes passed in the dark and quiet of his cell, his arousal waned, and in its wake weariness overtook him. He slid down the cold stone wall and sat in a heap on the floor, relieved by the coolness seeping through his uniform pants into his skin. Eyes closing, he leaned against the wall, trying to find a comfortable position, but with his hands tied behind him, that was impossible. His shoulders ached and his wrists burned where the braided rope touched him. The bonds weakened him, made him feel sick and dizzy, but nobody cared about that. 

Nobody cared about _him,_ he thought in self-pity.  Of course, he should be used to that by now. Jack and the others had betrayed him and locked him up. They’d done that before, and watched him in his drugged-up misery as Ma’chello’s de-Goa’ulding device had screwed up his mind. They’d stood by and wouldn’t even touch him, wouldn’t offer the comfort he so desperately needed at that time, staring down at him in the confines of his padded cell while he struggled so hard to get past the medication and understand what was happening to him. 

The effort it took him in that instance had been monumental, but he’d done it. Somehow, all by himself, friendless and without anyone to help him, he’d made MacKenzie listen, and once the drugs had worn off, he’d been himself again. But he’d never gotten over what his team – his _family_ – had done to him then. Or rather, what they _hadn’t_ done.  They’d simply written him off and turned away. 

In spite of Jack’s phony reassurances, Daniel knew they’d try to do it again, leaving him in their dust at first opportunity.  But this time, he was on to them and he’d be ready. He’d entice them to take him home.  He laughed quietly to himself, enjoying the plans he was already making.  He knew _just_ what buttons to push to make each of them do whatever the hell he wanted.  

After all, he was smarter than all of them except maybe Sam, and even she could be swayed.  She did seem to care about him, and because she was a woman, he was sure it would be easy to coax her with his body, with his eyes and words.  He smiled and licked his lips, anticipating how sweet she would taste as she gave herself up to him willingly, his to command.  

Alone in the dark, Daniel thought about Jack.  Back in the bunkroom, he hadn’t missed the look in those dark eyes, the bulge in Jack’s pants, or the way Jack had eyed up his dick.  He’d looked hungry, and in that instant, Daniel had known _exactly_ what he wanted to do with Jack. Better still, he’d known exactly what Jack wanted to do with _him._ Jack would be easy, too, ripe for the taking, all in due time. 

All he had to do was be patient and wait for the opportunities to arise, and not let his feelings for them get in the way. Love made him weak, and he was sick and tired of being weak.  When he got back to the base, everything would change.  They’d _see_ , every single one of them.  He would show them a new Daniel Jackson, one who would no longer be unappreciated, ignored or underestimated. 

He laughed softly in the darkness, sure now of what he would accomplish when he returned to Earth with his fragile human friends.  He closed his eyes, and slept. 

* * *

 

The instant the sun was up and it was safe, he and Carter double-timed it all the way back to the Stargate. Jack didn’t waste time with an order.  He headed directly for the DHD and dialed home himself. He didn’t look up until he was finished and stepped away to watch Carter punch in the IDC code that would open the iris on the other side. 

“What’s the matter, Carter?” he demanded, noting that she seemed to be looking for something while they waited for the sideways flush to settle into a placid, upright pond. 

“The MALP’s gone,” she reported, still glancing around the freaky scenery with the giant mushrooms. 

He looked where the machine had been parked when they left. An impression from the treads was still visible in the deep moss, along with a host of footprints that were not SG-1’s. The Ferretu had discovered it during the long night and apparently taken it with them. His tracking skills weren’t as adept as Teal’c’s, but it looked like four of them had simply picked up the two-ton machine and walked off with it, like pall-bearers toting a coffin.  

The Ferretu were also apparently quite strong, as well as influential in any circle. 

“Crap!” O’Neill spat. “Hammond’s not gonna be happy about losing another one of his expensive Tonka toys.” 

The event horizon stabilized, Carter plugged in their code, and they hurried through to the base. 

“Where are Doctor Jackson and Teal’c, Colonel?” Hammond asked over the PA when they arrived on the home ramp. 

“We’ve got a problem,” Jack announced, looking up into the control booth. He glanced at Carter and said, “Go.” 

She ran out of the ‘gate room, on the way to the infirmary to get Doctor Fraiser started packing. 

Jack looked up into the slanted windows again at his commander. “Coming up to report,” he announced, and handed off his weaponry to one of the Marines on duty at the foot of the ramp. Jack jogged out of the gate room, up the stairs to the conference room, where Hammond met him, worry in his eyes. 

There wasn’t time to sugarcoat anything, so he laid it on the line. “Daniel’s sick, sir. Some weird alien vampire thing bit him, and now he’s infected with the disease that makes them turn. The normal folks who live in that village don’t think we can help him, but we have to try. We need to take Doctor Fraiser back with us, if she’s willing. And we’re gonna need a _shitload_ of medical support. Military backup would be good, too.”   
  
”You can’t bring Doctor Jackson back here for treatment?” Hammond asked, concern showing in his face. 

Jack shook his head. “No, sir. There’s a risk of… spreading the infection. It’s not safe.” 

Hammond sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that, Colonel. We’ll try to get you what you need, but understand, if Doctor Fraiser deems it too risky to send a medical team through the ‘gate, I’ll back her up a hundred percent.” 

“Understood, sir,” Jack assured him bitterly. “Already thought of that.” He paused. “But this is _Daniel._ We have to save him, if we can.” 

Hammond paused. “That’ll be up to Doctor Fraiser to decide. Let’s take a few minutes for a debriefing, before you discuss the situation with her. I want to know what kind of sickness we’re talking about, here.” Hammond nodded toward the briefing room and headed away. 

Jack sighed. He spent half an hour explaining the situation to the General, who was appropriately shocked and horrified at the news. Both men went to the infirmary then, where Janet Fraiser had been briefed by Carter and was now hip deep in calling orders to her staff, packing up a variety of equipment and requesting more. Sergeant Siler was also on hand with a clipboard, assessing what kind of power supply would be necessary for all the machines headed off-world. 

O’Neill glanced at his watch. “Keep in mind, folks, we’ll have a ten-mile trek to get this stuff back to the village before they close the gates and lock us out at sundown. We’re burnin’ daylight, here. Make dead certain we’ll have ample time to get this stuff where we’re goin’ before dark, or _we’re_ dead.” He paused. “Or we’ll _wish_ we were.” 

“I may have a solution for that, sir,” Sergeant Siler volunteered. “I’ll check with the motor pool and get right back to you.” 

Hammond looked thoughtful, and more than a little distressed. “I'm sorry I have to limit your personnel request, Colonel, but the risk of losing even more people to this disease is prohibitive. I wish I could send some SFs or another SG team, but better judgment stands. You'll have to be satisfied with your three volunteers." 

"If it’s okay with you, sir, we’ll need Siler to set up the generators, so that makes four," Jack told him, catching the sergeant’s eye and his nod of agreement. "It's a shame this has to be his first trip through the 'gate. And I understand the risk everybody's taking. It's just… An _army_ would be really nice to take back with us, too." 

The general’s frown deepened. "Have you given any consideration to additional weaponry? Anything that might be of use against… and I can’t believe I’m saying this… vampires?” 

With a grimace, Jack looked back at him. “Got any silver bullets on ya?” 

"No, but we've got a stock of those Goa'uld shock grenades, zats and some staff weapons that might be of use to your limited forces." 

"Then pack 'em up, sir, and thank you." 

"Consider it done." 

"Ready to go, Colonel," Janet Fraiser reported. "My top med tech and best nurse are already in the ‘gate room with the last of the equipment." 

Jack met her frank gaze. "Thanks for volunteering, Doc," he said warmly. "You don't have to go, y'know." 

Janet smiled. "This _is_ Daniel we're talking about, Colonel. He's special. To a lot of us here at the SGC." 

"We'll keep you all in our prayers," Hammond assured him gravely. "Godspeed, Colonel." 

Jack turned after a firm handshake, heading back for the Stargate and the last minutes of daylight on a vampires' world.  

* * *

 

 _Cold, so cold!_

Daniel’s teeth were chattering as he roused, completely disoriented in the darkness. He tried to stand up, but his hands were bound behind him.  He felt incredibly weak and he was freezing, his naked back pressed against a cold stone wall. 

“Hello?” he called loudly, his voice breathless and shaky. “Can anybody hear me? Where am I?” 

There was no answer. He wondered if he’d been thrown outside in the darkness, maybe as some sort of sacrifice to the Ferretu. There was no _way_ he’d have disregarded the local taboo, especially in light of what the Sing told him about them during the festival. The last thing he remembered was going to bed in that guest room the villagers had set up for them, and now he was chilled to the bone, it was dark, he felt awful and he was alone and afraid. 

Gradually, he realized he wasn’t wearing all of his clothes. The comforting pressure of his pants against his legs assured him that he wasn’t completely naked, but his feet were bare and his shirt was gone. With what strength he could muster, he pulled his feet up under him, pushing up against the wall until he was squatting. Leaning down over his thighs, he tried to conserve his body heat in that crouched position, and was surprised at how hot his skin felt. 

He obviously had a fever. 

“If I’m sick, why did they put me… wherever this is?” he murmured aloud, keeping himself company with the sound of his own voice. 

He tried to figure out where he was, and looked up. The sky had been covered with mist when they’d arrived on the planet, with no view of the heavens besides a solid cloud of gray. If he were outside and the mist were still present, he wouldn’t be able to see stars, either. Knowing he had to stand up to figure out where he was, he struggled to get to his feet. 

Using his shoulder to scrape lightly against the wall as a guide, he followed it a few steps until his toes made contact with another wall in front of him. Turning, he followed the same procedure until he determined that he was, indeed, inside a small room, one with a hot metal door that he couldn’t bear to touch.  He was relatively safe, then, he supposed, and squatted down again in the corner, as far away as he could get from that door. 

He thought he should probably be hungry or thirsty, but he seemed fine. Nor did he need to relieve himself, and he knew it had been a while since he’d done any of those things. Innately, he sensed that many hours had passed since SG-1 had arrived on this world, maybe even a whole day. Something felt wrong about not needing to eat, drink or pee, but that seemed to be the least of his worries. 

Working his hands against the rope binding, he felt increasingly ill, like his head might explode if he didn’t stop.  He sat still, trying to make his stomach settle down. He wondered if he had the flu.  He couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad, like his whole body was on a roller coaster ride that was leaving him nauseated and trembling, wishing he could just pass out until it was over. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, shivering and trying to find a way to stay warm. 

_You’ve been very bad, Danny._

“What?” he asked aloud, certain he’d heard someone whispering. 

_You have to be punished. You know what_ that _means._

His eyes snapped open as he recognized the voice. “You’re just a memory,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “So shut the fuck up!  You can’t hurt me now.” 

But the damage was already done. His mind went spinning back into the past, back to that first year without his parents, and the man and woman in whose home the State of New York had placed him. Trudy and Thomas Springer had seemed like nice people at first, and he’d done his best to fit in and not make trouble, but he simply hadn’t understood the rules. The life he’d lived with his parents hadn’t been what most American children lived, and Daniel came to a rude awakening just how different he was from other kids. 

Neatness wasn’t a problem. Claire Jackson had always insisted that her son keep his meager possessions organized, placed where they could be packed away quickly for another trip into the field. Both of Daniel’s parents had been qualified teachers, so his mom had home-schooled him, since they’d always moved around a lot, from one dig site to another. 

Daniel had never been put on a regimented schedule. He’d studied in his mother’s tent when they were on digs, and when she let him take a break to play, he invariably scouted the place and found something of interest to amuse himself. He was independent, used to spending time alone, without other children around. He lived in a world of adults who were constantly working. It was the only thing he’d ever known. 

Then after their death, he’d suddenly been thrust into a home where the family never traveled, where life revolved around Mr. Springer’s eight-to-five job. He came home in the evening to a wife who had dinner on the table. It was a boring, frustrating world of constant dullness that _stifled_ him, made him feel like he was suffocating. 

Shortly afterward, Daniel discovered the unpleasant routine of school, where he had to stick with the pace of those who were much slower and picked on him mercilessly. And when he got home, there was a set bedtime that was not to be disregarded, to ensure that he got enough sleep to be alert for the next day in the classroom. 

Grieving for his beloved parents and utterly alone, he’d hated it, all of it, and subsequently had started getting into trouble. That was when the worst of it started. He’d found out that the Springers embraced a different sort of punishment than his parents had. Daniel had learned quickly to avoid disobedience, to keep his head down and his mouth shut, doing exactly as he was told. 

The room he was in now smelled different from the one he remembered from his childhood. Its walls were cold stone rather than concrete, like the Springers’ basement had been, but it felt exactly the same. Smaller, perhaps, but no less a prison and a place of abandonment.  This was where they’d put the unwanted child, the invader in their home who meant only a regular paycheck from the State and a great deal of personal inconvenience to them. 

Disobedience could come in any number of forms – a temper tantrum when frustration got the better of him; a chore accidentally forgotten; a roll of the eyes that told them exactly what he thought of them. And the punishment was always the same. _Darkness, isolation, cold._

Sometimes they’d even forgotten about him, and it wasn’t until time to get him up in the morning and get him ready for school that Mrs. Springer had rushed down to fetch him, warning him to keep quiet about the punishment. At first he hadn’t understood why she’d seemed so nervous about that, but Daniel had always learned fast. He was smart, and his parents had raised him to think through behavior clues to get at the truth behind them. That was a natural part of the study of humanity that had kept them so engaged. 

And when he’d figured it out, when he’d told them he _would_ tell if they put him in the basement again… 

Daniel shuddered and wished he could put his arms around himself, to comfort himself against the memories of those terrible years and the damage they’d done to him. But he couldn’t break the bonds, couldn’t slide his hands out because the binding was tied too tightly. He hung his head and wondered where his team was, if they were even _looking_ for him. He tried calling out a few more times, but there was no answer.  

He had to have faith in them. In _Jack._ Jack would find him and help him, because Jack was the best friend he’d ever had. Jack loved him, even though he never let on that he cared at all, even though he acted like Daniel was a pain in the ass most of the time. There were moments when he would offer some kindness, some gesture that revealed how he truly felt. Like when Jack had taken his glasses off in Hadante, trying to protect him from the leers of the other prisoners who’d eyed Daniel up like he was fresh meat. And when Jack had held him in that storeroom while Daniel was still in the grip of the sarcophagus addiction, he’d been incredibly gentle and sympathetic. Jack cared about him deeply; it just wasn’t in his nature to show it except in the most subtle of ways. 

Jack _would_ save him, Daniel assured himself, or he’d die trying. Of that he was dead certain. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, tried to imagine what the others were doing in their search to find their missing friend.  

* * *

 

 ** _Countdown: 100 Hours_**

When most of the eight hours of light had passed, the roar of motorcycles could be heard revving in the ‘gate room and the corridor just outside. Each of the volunteers rode a bike towing trailers loaded with medical equipment, munitions and weaponry. Each rider also carried backpacks in which more delicate items were stowed. O’Neill was first through the event horizon, driving into the wormhole through space with a barely heard, “Godspeed,” in his ears from General Hammond. 

Jack flew out onto the other side, churning up the moss beneath his tires to reveal the black, fertile earth beneath. The sound of motorcycles filled the otherwise still air, and once the others had come through and the wormhole had shut down, he took up their six with Carter on point, guiding his vehicle after them.  He hoped to God they still had enough time.  It was already getting a little blue outside with coming twilight. 

Just behind the others, he barely made it inside the village gate before it closed. Moments later, he was riding his bike up the paved walk into the great hall, and the doors were shut behind them.  The foyer became a parking lot, hauling their equipment into the great hall.  Then the whole team was busy setting things up, getting ready to save the life of first one man, and then perhaps the rest of the people on that world. 

The hall became their research laboratory.  The naquadah-powered generators, which would supply energy to the diagnostic equipment, were set up in the foyer with the motorcycles. Cables ran from the generators to the various machines, strung across what had been the dance floor the previous night, taped down by Sergeant Siler to help prevent people tripping over them. In less than two hours, the calibration runs had been made and the equipment was functioning properly. Now they were ready to begin looking for Daniel’s cure.  

A sense of hope settled into Jack, but whispering in the back of his mind was the possibility that this disease might well be beyond their medical science, and Daniel could still die... or even worse. He might live and be damned forever, something so far from human it made Jack’s skin crawl to think of it.  Jack shook himself. That was _not_ going to happen. If Daniel succumbed, if no cure could be found, he’d do the only merciful thing left. 

He’d kill Daniel Jackson _himself_. 

The Daniel who was his friend wouldn’t want to be one of those things. Some part of him would be grateful for the release, but Jack would have to live with that execution for the rest of his life. He remembered his own words to Daniel in Ba’al’s prison:  “I’d do it for you.”  And _by God, he would._

He longed to see Daniel.  He wanted to talk to him, to look at him, and not only see that he was alive, but also that he wasn’t completely vamped yet. But that would have to wait a little longer, until he’d seen to his second unit. 

Jack returned to where he’d left his backpack, unzipping the top compartment, and reached inside. Taking out one of the plastic packets, he grabbed the backpack’s top and stood. One by one, he handed the packets out to every SGC person he encountered. 

“Doc,” he called, tapping Fraiser on the shoulder. “Here. Keep this on ya and don’t be in the same room with Daniel unless you have it on.” He handed her the package of swimmer’s nose plugs he’d ordered up from the base supply before they left. 

She glanced at it, then up at him and smiled. “Good thinking, Colonel, but I brought my own. If your local experts are correct in their theory, Daniel’s putting out some pretty powerful pheromones, even at this early stage of the disease.” 

She put the finishing touches on a tray of vials, stuck a couple of pairs of latex gloves into the pocket of her lab coat and set her tray on the restraint bed they’d brought in one of the trailers. “Sir, you want to give me a hand with this… and our patient?” 

“Sure thing, Doc. I was just on my way to see him.” Jack moved to the foot of the bed and pushed. “Just follow me.” 

“You know,” Janet mused as they walked, “this is an opportunity to learn a great deal about human physiology and instinctive behavior. Jacobson’s organ is much larger and more well developed in virtually all other mammals. That’s the receptor in the nasal passages that stimulates animals to find mates, all triggered by the sense of smell. For a long time, we thought humans didn’t have that organ, but a team of college kids found it recently, so small it was barely noticeable.” 

“So?” 

“Well, I’m theorizing that these Ferretu are producing pheromones that will attract and influence _either_ sex.  It’s very interesting, because men do produce estrogen, just as women produce testosterone, but the amounts are tiny, just enough to keep the system in balance. Which means Daniel’s sexual hormones must be wildly out of control. If that’s true, the rest of his endocrine system must be affected as well. The most remarkable part of this illness is its apparent ability to engineer subliminal control over others, using the mating instinct as a base to heighten suggestibility.” 

“I guess.”  He was having a hard time following the Doc’s physiology lesson.  He frankly didn’t give a damn how any of it worked; he just wanted it _gone._

Jack guided the bed around a tight corner and spotted Teal’c at his post far down the long corridor. He was talking with the Sing, and didn’t look happy. 

O’Neill stopped walking and turned to the woman just behind him. He took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Doctor Fraiser… Janet.” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “If you can’t help him… if you can’t find a cure…” He let out a slow breath and released her, letting his hands move down to his sides. “We can’t let Daniel live as a… one of those _things._ He wouldn’t want that. Not in his right mind. Which he’s not, right now. He’s _not_ the Daniel we know.” 

Those big brown eyes were filled with compassion. She hesitated and offered a warm smile. “Colonel… Jack. I took an oath—“ 

“Not about _this_ , you didn’t,” he interrupted.  He reached into his jacket pocket for his own nose plugs and put them on.  “Believe me, this wasn’t on the books when that Hypocritic Oath thing was written.” 

“Hippo _cratic_ ,” she corrected, clamping her own nostrils shut. “We’ll talk about that later. _If_ it becomes necessary. Okay?” 

He nodded and turned back, pushing the bed down the hallway, and stopped just beside the room. He smiled at the Sing and touched the bill of his cap respectfully, gesturing to the woman beside him. “Ma’am, this is Doctor Fraiser, our healer. Doc, this is the Sing, local expert on all things vampire.” He glanced between her and the obviously unhappy Jaffa. “Is everything okay here, T?” 

“This Sing is requesting that DanielJackson be cast outside at the next sunrise. She believes it is becoming too dangerous to keep him here.” 

Jack’s chin tipped up. He glanced down his nose at her, eyebrows lifting into his forehead. “See, now, that won’t work at all, because there’s a Stargate out there that could take him all over the galaxy. Daniel _knows_ that, and he _knows how to use it_. We can’t turn him loose without endangering people on other worlds and spreading this disease even further.” 

Janet eyed the woman, giving her a friendly, patient smile. “And we haven’t really had a chance to try to help him yet. Aren’t you rushing things a little here, ma’am?” 

The Sing shook her head. “Unfortunately, I have seen this happen far too many times. The loved ones try to hold onto the new Ferretu, believing their love and prayers will make him well. In the end, the choice becomes more difficult than they can make themselves, and it is required of the Sing to call the people together and cast the demon out.” 

“The sunlight will _kill_ him!” Jack argued, fear clutching at his heart. “And you said the infection takes _days_ to finish changing him. I think we’ve got a little time here.” 

“How long, exactly, are we talking about before the transformation is complete?” Janet asked the older woman. She pulled the gloves out of her pocket and started putting them on. 

“Four and a half days.” 

“That’s about a hundred thirty-five hours,” Jack figured aloud. 

Doctor Fraiser nodded.  “And we’ve lost thirtyish.” She snapped the second latex glove into place. “That gives us about a hundred hours left.” 

The Sing eyed those gloves with suspicion and sighed. “Sometimes we are not certain a person has been infected until the Ferretu is almost fully changed. They can hide among us, especially if they understand what is happening to them, and _want_ it to happen.” 

“Why would anyone wish to become one of these creatures?” Teal’c asked. 

Something dark and secretive gleamed in the old woman’s gray eyes. She smiled grimly and shook her head. “There are those who pray to be chosen, who slip out at night seeking to become, because they foolishly believe the Ferretu are superior to mere humans. They do not care that there will be lives lost to their appetites, lives of those they once called friend, family or lover.” 

“Now, that’s just stupid,” Jack snapped. “You let your people know, if I hear anybody talkin’ crazy like that, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.” 

“Now, Colonel,” Janet warned calmly, patting his arm. “We’re not setting up a military tribunal here. You let these people deal with their own. We’re here for _Daniel_.” 

She eyed the Sing. “And until I say so, ma’am, we’re not giving up on him. He’s very dear to all of us, a great friend, and an invaluable asset to our program.  We _are_ going to find a way to save him. We have to.” 

Sorrow settled heavily into the creases of the old woman’s face. She nodded. “I wish you success.” She bowed slightly. “If my knowledge of the Ferretu is of any use to you, I will gladly tell you all I know.” 

Janet smiled at her. “Hold that thought, please. I’m going to run some tests, and once I know a little more about what I’m fighting here, I’ll be around to take you up on that offer.  I’ll be asking you an awful lot of questions, so I’ll know which direction to look for treatments or a cure.” She reached out and laid a hand on the woman’s arm. “And if there’s any way we can help your people prevent more losses to the Ferretu, or maybe even find a cure for those who already have the disease, we’re sure going to try.” She gave the old woman the healer’s smile of compassion and comfort. 

The Sing eyed her uncertainly. “You have medicines that can do such things?” 

“We’ll see. I still don’t know enough yet to make any broad statements like that.” 

She lifted the rack of empty vials, some partially filled with preservatives, and set them on the floor, well back from the door. “Gentlemen, let’s get Doctor Jackson safely strapped down to this bed, shall we?” 

“Maybe you better go, ma’am,” Jack suggested to the elder. “Things could get nasty here if he’s feelin’ ornery.” 

Without another word, the Sing nodded and walked away, turning a corner and disappearing down the corridor toward the village. 

Teal’c stepped away from the door and said in a low voice, “O’Neill, DanielJackson called to me many times while you and MajorCarter were away. I answered him at first, seeking to reassure him that he had not been left behind. It soon became clear that it was not DanielJackson who called out to me, but rather someone I did not know who sought only to manipulate me. I ceased to respond, and he eventually fell silent.” 

Jack nodded. “I know that had to be hard, T, but I think you made the right call.” 

A touch on his sleeve made Jack look up into the Jaffa’s concerned, hopeful face. “He called out again not half an hour past. He sounded like himself then, different from his earlier attempts to communicate. And he was calling out for _you_ , O’Neill. You are his lifeline, his hope. He trusts you above all others.” 

Jack took a deep breath, allowing his tired, gritty eyelids to shut for a few seconds. He could sense his teammate’s anxiety, how upset Teal’c was over what had happened to their friend. “It’s all right, T,” he murmured.  “You did the right thing.”  He let his gaze meet Teal’c’s stoic expression.  “I’m glad you were here for him.” 

With a shudder, Jack readied himself for action, steeling his heart for whatever they might find beyond the silver door.  “Okay.  Ready, Teal’c?” he asked.  “If he bolts, you grab him, and I’ll help you wrestle him onto the bed." 

"Just don’t get anywhere near his mouth or let him bite you," Janet warned. "We don’t know if his teeth have changed or exactly how infectious he is right now.” 

“Understood, DoctorFraiser.” Teal’c leaned his staff weapon against the wall a pace away from the door, then started unscrewing the lock. Cautiously, he pulled the heavy silver door open. 

Daniel squatted in a far corner, huddled in on himself, shivering. His skin had a grayish pallor, and beneath his eyes were huge dark circles. His hands were still tied behind him.  

He looked up at the familiar faces with relief.  He didn’t even try to stand up.  “Jack!” he whimpered.  “Oh, thank God! Please help me. I’m sick and I don’t know what’s happening to me. How did I get here?” 

“It’s okay, Daniel,” Jack assured him quietly, moving slowly into the little, dark room.  The place stank of mold and old sweat.  His heart hammering its presence in his throat, it occurred to him that he wouldn’t keep his worst enemy in such a place for more than a few minutes, and Daniel had been stuck in there for hours. “We know you’re sick,” he said gently, “and we brought Doctor Fraiser to help get you well.” 

“G-good. I’m c-cold, Jack. C-can I have a blanket? My pants are all sweaty, and I’m freezing.”  

Moving slowly, loathe to do anything to startle his friend, Jack put his hands on the man’s shoulders, not surprised to find that he was scorching hot.  Jack helped him to stand, and Janet handed over a pair of clean scrubs for her patient. She stepped aside into the hallway and Teal’c positioned himself in the doorway while Jack unbuttoned Daniel’s pants and pulled them and his boxers off, then helped him into the scrub pants, leaving his wrists bound during the process. He left Daniel’s damp clothing on the floor for the moment, then guided Daniel slowly toward the door. “Let’s just get you up on the bed, here, okay, big guy? Let the doc get started doing her thing and we’ll get you covered up as soon as we can.” 

Nodding, Daniel moved without protest out into the hallway, and when Jack untied the garlic rope from his wrists, he tried to move them, bringing them around in front of his body. He sucked in a sharp breath and grimaced, going still, his arms down at his sides, tears standing in his eyes.  “Hurts,” he whispered, then pressed his lips firmly together, making his dimples flare. 

“Careful,” Janet warned belatedly. “Just move slowly, Daniel.” 

He grunted in assent and, little by little, he managed to loosen them up enough to enable him to climb onto the bed without assistance.  Still shivering, he lay still, the picture of misery, offering no resistance. His face told Jack plainly how he was feeling, though. 

Jack felt sick just looking at him. 

In seconds, Janet had the thick leather-and-chain strap fixed around his neck, while Jack and Teal’c bound down his arms, legs and torso with the other restraints. 

“Blankets,” Daniel begged. “P-please. I’m f-f-freezing!” 

Janet smoothed a hand over his forehead and smiled down at him. “Okay, Daniel, it’s coming.  It just _feels_ like you’re cold, honey.  You’re actually burning up with fever. Your body’s trying to fight off the infection, and we have to figure out a way to help it. Okay, honey?” 

She nodded at Jack, who took the thick blanket from the end of the bed and pulled it over Daniel, gently tucking it around him. 

Janet looked into Daniel’s eyes. “We’ll try to make you as comfortable as we can, but right now we need to get some samples and run some tests. Be patient. Okay?” 

“ ‘k-kay,” he shuddered. Even with the warmth of the blanket, his teeth started to chatter.  He moaned and moved his head restlessly from side to side, probably looking for a comfortable position, only there wasn’t one in his condition. 

Teal’c adjusted the blankets to cover Daniel up to his neck, tucking them gently around him. He squeezed Daniel’s shoulder and gave him a tiny, hopeful smile, his eyes filled with uncertainty. 

“That any better, buddy?” asked Jack, patting Daniel’s shoulder. 

“A l-little,” Daniel told him, still shivering. “I feel s-so awful, Jack.” 

Jack leaned down and spoke into Daniel’s ear.  “I know you do, Daniel.  Just hang on, Doc’s gonna fix you up good as new.  I promise.” 

He glanced up at Teal’c. “Why don’t you see if Carter and the others need any more help setting up the lab in the great hall? I’ll stay here with the doc.  You can make sure this corridor’s off limits to everyone while we’ve got Batman out of his cage.” 

The Jaffa gave him a nod and disappeared down the corridor on silent feet. 

Jack watched the doctor as she worked. Not wasting any time, Janet had gotten busy collecting the samples she needed.  They all realized they might not have much time to work before Daniel became predatory or even violent.  

At one point, Jack had to hold Daniel’s arm still so Fraiser could locate a vein because the man was shaking so hard he couldn’t stop it himself.  Jack felt his stomach clench. He’d never seen anyone that ill, or trying so hard to be strong and brave. He also didn’t miss the single tear sliding across Daniel’s temple as he waited, obviously miserable and terrified. 

But as Janet worked on Daniel, Jack noticed the shaking begin to slow. He put his hand on Daniel’s arm and felt his temperature dropping, falling into the normal range and then below it. Inside the space of just a few minutes, he went from scorching to icy, and a deadly calm fell over him. 

Daniel smiled, ignoring Jack. “Hello, Janet. Thank you for coming all this way, just for me.”  His voice was soft, sensuous, full of oily charm. The misery of a moment before was gone now. 

She glanced at his face, slightly alarmed at the change in his expression and behavior. “Ah.  Gee, you’re welcome, Daniel. Feeling better now?” 

His tongue stroked slowly across his lips. “I’m feeling just fine, Janet.”  His eyes sparkled, heavy lidded and suggestive, as though inviting her to understand just _why_ he was feeling better.  “Why don’t you take me back to the base?  We could run these tests _there_ , and I can prove to you that I’m okay.” 

“Watch him now,” Jack warned in a soft voice.  “Open your eyes and pay attention to what he’s doing, doc.” 

She looked blank for a second, then shook her head as if to clear it. “Ah, no, Daniel.  We brought all we should need with us.  I’ll run the samples I’m taking through the diagnostic assays, and we’ll get started on researching a cure. Fix you right up.” She patted his arm. 

“You couldn’t have brought any of the big scanners,” Daniel argued gently, his voice a soft purr. “We should go back to the base, so you can be thorough. I need to go home.” 

“Maybe later,” she agreed hesitantly with a glance at the Colonel. “We need to know a little more about what we’re up against here, first.” 

Jack pulled another blanket out from the rack beneath the bed and started to lay it across Daniel’s restrained body.  

“No, I’m too hot, Jack,” Daniel protested gently, rolling his head to face his old friend. “I don’t need the blankets now, either of them. But thank you. That’s kind of you to want me to be comfortable.” He sighed, his eyes glittering strangely. “I know you care about me. Both of you. But the best thing will be for all of us to get _home_ , as quickly as we can.” 

Jack noticed how Daniel emphasized that word, _home._ That would be the key to his strategy, Jack knew. He felt the need himself and fought it, recognizing that was exactly what the enemy that Daniel was becoming wanted. 

Janet Fraiser remained cool and professional, ignoring the sensual rumble of Daniel’s voice. “Colonel, I’d like to get a look at that wound on his neck. Think you can hold his head still, in case he decides to try to bite me?” 

“You got it, Doc.” Jack moved to the other end of the bed, pinning Daniel’s head to the pillow, holding him down with both hands splayed across Daniel’s forehead. 

The doctor unstrapped the neck restraint and leaned over to examine the now almost fully healed bite mark. Using a long-stemmed swab, she daubed at the wound and then inserted the swab into a vial, which she sealed and marked, placing it in the rack with the vials containing Daniel’s blood samples. Then she refastened the neck strap and looked at Jack.  

“I’m going to need a saliva sample, too, Colonel. I need to find out if he bites anyone, what sort of danger we might be facing as far as contagion factors go.” 

“I’m not going to bite anybody,” Daniel promised with a grin. “I’ll open my mouth for you, Doctor Beautiful.” 

Janet looked down at him. Then back at Jack. Her expression grim, she pulled a bite block from her tray of equipment.  “Okay, Daniel, then open,” she ordered her patient.  Compliantly, he did so, batting his eyelashes and flirting silently with her.  Ignoring him, she gingerly put it between Daniel’s back teeth, cranking it open to ensure he kept his word.  Inserting another long swab, she scraped it along the soft flesh inside Daniel’s cheek, stored it and labeled it. 

Jack still held the top of Daniel’s head in an iron grip to keep him still.  

“Ow,” said Daniel irritably, unable to quite form the sound properly with a wide-open mouth. 

Doctor Fraiser held her breath and dipped another swab into that gaping maw, this time directing the soft cotton tip underneath his tongue. She breathed again once she had a third one capped, and nodded to Jack to let go. She removed the bite block, bagged it up and sealed it. 

As soon as they started to move away, Daniel jerked his head toward her hand and snapped his teeth together noisily in a mock attempt to bite her. He laughed, a husky, dark ripple of twisted amusement, when he saw her startled response.  

Jack swatted at the top of his head lightly, pulling his attention away from Janet.  “Don’t do that again, Danie!,” he snarled. “I don’t wanna have to hurt you, but by God, I will before I’ll let you hurt anybody else! You understand me?” He wasn’t dealing with Daniel Jackson, but with something evil living inside him, corrupting him, and Jack hated it.  

Daniel chuckled softly. “Oh, yeah. I get you, Jack.” He rolled his eyes upward, twisting his head as best he could, in an attempt to look at the man standing at the end of the bed, above his head.  When he spoke, his voice was soft and warm, a sensual growl.  “I know you’re waaaay smarter than you pretend to be.  But you know what?  I’m _light_ years ahead of you now. All my uncertainties are gone, and I know exactly how to play you to get what I want. And I _will_ , you know. I guarantee you, you’ll do whatever I tell you, when the time comes.” 

Jack stepped around to the side of the bed and stared down into that smug face, something cold settling into the pit of his stomach, hating this whatever-it-was that was controlling his friend.  “That’s where you’re wrong, Batman,” he said in a menacingly soft voice.  “I’ll kill you _myself_ if I have to.  And somewhere in there, wherever the Daniel I know is hiding, _he_ knows that, too.”  

He stared at the creature for a moment, their eyes locked in a battle of wills, letting the truth of his promise sink in.  Oh, Jack could see that they understood each other, all right.  Because of whatever influence Daniel still had over it, a little of the thing’s certainty was shaken now.  That, Jack thought, could only be good. Daniel was still fighting for his life, and so would the people they’d brought back with them. 

Jack turned back to Doctor Fraiser for what they needed to do next.  He looked at her questioningly, watching as she hooked Daniel up to an IV, a bag of clear liquids hung on a pole attached to the side of the bed. 

“Colonel, I don’t think this bed will fit in that tiny little room,” Janet told him, nodding toward the silver door. “You want to see if there’s another place we can use for an isolation chamber? Daniel will be fine right here, and I’ll wait at the end of the corridor, hopefully out of range of those pheromones.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“And bring Nurse Chambers with you when you come back, please.” 

He turned and jogged away in search of one of the townsfolk who could help with relocating their patient. In ten minutes he was back, pushing Daniel’s bed to a storage room behind the temple. It had lighting and only one door, also made of silver, along with several shelves for holding religious artifacts and ceremonial robes, and a counter with a small sink. The only problem with it was that it had no lock. 

The Colonel stationed Teal’c outside the door while Nurse Chambers inserted a Foley catheter into Daniel’s bladder to drain out the IV liquids they were putting into him to keep him hydrated. 

Moments later, Doctor Fraiser finished up with her patient, then left to return to the great hall by way of the tunnels to begin her research on this strange alien disease, with Jack and Nurse Chambers at her side, leaving Teal’c behind to stand watch at the door. 

* * *

 

 ** _88 Hours_**

Janet looked tired. Jack handed her a cup of coffee, which she gulped down without lifting her eyes from her report. The petite woman had been about to go off duty when he and Carter had arrived back at the SGC, and now she’d been working there for twelve hours, in addition to the six she’d spent gathering materials at the base and transporting them to the village. He was pretty wiped out himself, but they didn’t have time for the luxury of sleep. Daniel’s life depended on their due diligence, and they could sleep when they got home. 

“Okay, this is what we know so far,” she murmured aloud. “It’s definitely a disease, but resembles nothing I’ve ever seen before. There are a variety of different types of cells, for one thing. It appears to be a multi-celled organism all functioning with the same programming, kind of like a hive of bees.” 

“Which means…?” 

Janet shook her head. “It doesn’t work like any known disease, Colonel. Just as stem cells in a developing fetus in the womb can direct other cells to become heart, liver, lungs and brain, this organism can be passed on with a single cell that goes on to become a half dozen different yet related and symbiotic entities.” 

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, an uncharacteristic gesture of frustration and impatience.  “It’s like this disease is terraforming Daniel’s body, changing his chemistry to suit its environmental needs. That’s why he has the fever followed by cold spells. Reduced body temperature is its natural environment, and eventually it’s going to win.” 

“The fever is his body trying to fight it?” Jack asked. “Is that why he sounded like our Daniel when we took him out of that room?” 

“I think so,” she agreed. “His personality changes with the cold, when the disease is in control. It may be altering his thinking patters as well as his brain chemistry. His endorphins are through the roof, and as I suspected, his entire endocrine system is wildly erratic, particularly his sexual hormones.” She raised sympathetic eyes to his. “He’s not in a lot of pain, if that’s any comfort. But I’ll bet he feels like he's been rode hard and put up wet, when he’s lucid.” 

Jack nodded. He expected that, but it still wasn’t good to have it put in such colorful terms. “So, what’s next?” 

“I’m already treating him with some pretty powerful antibiotics. It seems to be slowing things down, but I don’t know how effective it’ll be in the long run. It might buy us another day or two, but that’s only a guess.” She sighed as she looked over the reports. “Bottom line is… he’s dying, sir. And I don’t see any way to stop it, at this point.” 

Jack felt his stomach roil. He would _not_ let Daniel die! Not like _that._  “Is his body chemistry so different from these people’s that this disease could kill him?” 

She shrugged. “It’s possible. There have been some significant evolutionary changes due to the environment here being so diverse from Earth. I think these people may adjust to the disease more quickly. Their bodies may not fight it as hard, but I’m not sure exactly what the natural progress of this disease is, how it changes the affected individuals. Without something for comparison…” Janet raised her eyes to his. She waited. When he remained silent, she finished the thought. “Colonel, I’m going to need a fully converted Ferretu to study for comparative data. Until I know more about the end stage of this disease, I won’t really know if I’m making any progress.” 

Jack just stared at her. “You want me to catch you a live _vampire?”_

 “I guess that’s not a viable option, is it? They’re just too dangerous.”  Her gaze dropped back to the reports, and she sighed.  “I’ve talked to the Sing enough to understand the risks, and I can’t see sending our people out in the dark against these creatures. We’ll just have to find another way.” 

“Maybe we could dig up a dead one from their cemetery,” Jack suggested. This was grasping at straws, he knew, but it was something. He wasn’t going to take his people out in the dark and risk getting more of them infected. 

Janet shook her head. “Haven’t you noticed, Colonel? They don’t _have_ a cemetery. They cremate all their dead as a safety precaution. That’s why they have all the portraits in the corridors. _That’s_ their graveyard.” She leaned her face in her hands for a moment. “We’ll figure something out. We _have_ to.  

“I just can’t imagine Daniel doing something so foolish as to break a local taboo like this. It’s not like him,” Janet mused. 

Jack’s weary head snapped up. He regarded her, warning flags and bells and alarms all flapping and clanging in his insides. He stood up. “Thank you, Doctor Fraiser,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re absolutely right.” 

Weariness clawed at his mind, fogging his thoughts, but he knew he was onto something.  This was part of the important thing he’d been trying to figure out since Daniel had turned up sick, and Janet had hit the nail squarely on the head. 

He ran all the way to the Sing’s home, but she wasn’t there.  Vaguely recalling something about a special prayer session for Daniel, he headed down the winding corridor toward the temple, feeling the eyes of those ancestral portraits all staring at him as he passed by them. 

The temple was mostly dark except for a few candles here and there. People were kneeling all over the main hall, and at the back were three stone statues draped in veils to cover their faces. He got the impression that the figures were female, but paid no mind to them after that. He spotted the Sing standing to one side of the statues, her head bowed as she chanted. On the far side of the statues stood Rawnie, her young apprentice, with another woman in the middle, at the altar. 

“ ‘Scuse me for interrupting,” he called, after moving as close as he could get to the women up front. “I’d like to have a word with the Sing. It’s kind of important.” 

The elder woman nodded gracefully to the other two at the front, and the crowd parted to let her pass. 

“What is of such importance that it cannot wait for us to finish our intercession for your friend?” she asked coolly. Her disapproval was obvious, but she seemed to accept that the strangers were different and ignorant of their customs.  

“Yeah. Doc Fraiser reminded me of something I’d been meanin’ to ask you. See, Daniel’s big on following local customs. Part of the cultural thing he does. And since you guys told him not to go outside after dark, he’d have gone along with that.” 

The Sing blinked up at him. “ _This_ was important?” 

“Yeah. Because it means that one of your people had to _take_ him outside to get him infected… or else someone let one of the Ferretu _in._ Daniel didn’t just catch that off a toilet seat. Somebody _bit_ him. I saw the mark, and so did you.” 

Horror and shock dawned in the old woman’s eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand. And then she turned and stared at Rawnie. Her eyes narrowed as she squared her shoulders.  “Come here to me, child,” she demanded harshly.  

Rawnie peeled herself away from the wall, head high and posture filled with defiance. “Yes?” she answered proudly. 

“Did you take Doctor Jackson outside when you left the festival with him?” 

“No, of course not!  Why would I do that, grandmother?” She shrugged. “I took him on a tour of the village. We came here, and he wished to study the temple for a while. I begged some time to return home for a few minutes, and when I returned, he was still here, admiring the goddess. Perhaps, during the time I was away, he opened an outside door by mistake, and was taken.” 

“Then why were we not overrun?” the old woman demanded. “The Ferretu would have come hunting, if they’d had an open entrance through our walls.” 

“Not if there was only one at the door he opened,” Rawnie reasoned, her head cocked as she considered. “Perhaps Doctor Jackson overpowered it, and cast it back outside before it could do more harm.” 

The Sing bowed her head and sighed. “It is possible.” She looked up at Jack with a plea for understanding in her eyes. “Such things have happened before.” 

“Yes,” Rawnie agreed. She lifted her chin and looked Jack in the eye. “I lost my beloved to them in just such a way.” 

“It is true,” the woman at the altar chimed in. “We prayed for Mihnea for three days, but in the end he was cast out. And all for the reason of opening the wrong door.” 

She offered a sad smile. “I am Kerla, daughter of the Sing, mother to Rawnie. I am also Hecate’s priestess, and spend most of my time here in the temple, which is why we have not met, Colonel O’Neill.” She bowed. “May we now continue our prayers for your friend?” 

Something inside Jack flagged, his theory blown to smithereens. “Yeah. Don’t know what good it’ll do, but… That’d be nice. Thanks.” He turned and left the temple, taking the hallway that led to the storeroom where Daniel lay in torment, turning into something unspeakable. Before he got there, Jack turned away to return to the main hall, Rawnie’s excuses turning over and over in his mind. 

He knew the story sounded right. Those doors all looked alike, and if someone didn’t know where they were going or got distracted… 

Jack stopped walking. He turned and faced the door just to his left, not far from the rear of the temple. He stared at it. _All the way from the great hall to the temple, Jack O’Neill had not opened a single door._

All closed doors seemed to lead into private homes, or to the outside. Someone like himself, unfamiliar with what might lay behind any door, would have _avoided_ opening them. Public buildings like the temple and the great hall were connected by the maze of corridors, long passageways that ended in arched openings not covered by doors _of any kind_.  

Rawnie was lying, and he knew it then just as surely as he knew his own name. The defiant tilt of her chin, that gleam in the girl’s eyes – prideful, self-righteous – she _believed_ in what she had done. And she had done it to Daniel _on purpose._

Jack activated his comm unit, ordering Carter to keep those in the great hall working, but to stay on high alert. He made sure she realized they were all in danger, because there was a rogue in their midst, one of the villagers who could not be trusted. 

Just as he started to call Teal’c, Carter reported back to him that she had found a silver door to the outside closed but unbarred, directly behind the great hall. 

_None_ of his people would have done that. And neither would the villagers. Unless they had a hidden agenda. 

“Get ready,” he barked into his radio.  “Heads up.  We’re about to go to war with the vampires.” The knowledge was certainty now, cold and hard in the pit of his stomach. The Ferretu were coming, and _Rawnie had let them in._

He headed back to the temple, P-90 loaded and the safety off. 

Teal’c didn’t answer Jack’s summons, but he was just around the corner now. T could take care of himself and guard Daniel, but there were others who needed to be warned first. Once he’d spread the word to the villagers, he’d go check on his other teammates. 

The people were still prostrate and kneeling when Jack stepped into the chapel. He was going to stop the ceremony, call Rawnie out, and tell her people what she’d done. But he never got the chance. 

Streaming into the room from a side entrance, three pale strangers swept in among the villagers. People were plucked up from the floor, and Jack watched in horror as a ghostly, half-dressed young woman opened her mouth wide, sharp fangs protruding into view behind her other teeth. 

He raised his weapon instinctively and aimed for that mouth as it descended on the neck of an elderly man. He blew out the back of the vampire’s brain stem, and watched with satisfaction as it fell backward against the floor. 

Taking aim at the next one, he let fly a spray of bullets that took the creature’s head clean off. The third, an attractive young man with long blonde hair, naked from the waist up, turned and fled for the door. Jack dropped it with a half dozen shots to the back, but it rose and stumbled out the side entrance before he could get off any more rounds. 

Jack was after it instantly, ignoring the villagers’ screams as they realized what was happening. 

His comm unit activated a moment later, and Carter reported that they were under Ferretu attack. He relayed orders without breaking stride or concentration, running down the corridor in pursuit of the rapidly healing vampire. He saw the holes in its back closing up, smoothing over, and in horror, he realized then exactly how difficult these creatures were going to be to kill.

_**On to Next Chapter...** _


	2. Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clock is ticking for Daniel, and the team is struggling to find a cure.

**_84 hours_**

Slumped against the wall, the Colonel eyed his remaining people while Doctor Fraiser stitched up a cut on his forearm. He was weary beyond words, his body ready to give out, but he couldn’t afford to rest. Not yet. Not until a cure could be found. 

Carter stumbled up to him, breathless but ready to give her report. There were blood spatters on her face and bright red smears on her uniform. “Villagers have lost forty-two people in the attack, sir.” She was panting, dead on her feet, but uninjured. 

“Siddown to finish your report, Major,” he ordered gruffly. “Before you fall down.” 

“Yes, sir.”  Sam obeyed without protest, dropping like a sack of potatoes onto a nearby crate. She took a moment to catch her breath, stubbornly fighting the tears in her eyes.  “Our nurse is missing. Tanner, the med tech, and Sergeant Siler have both been bitten, but not on the neck.” 

Doctor Fraiser didn’t look up from her suturing. “My preliminary investigations into Daniel’s saliva indicate that’s probably not a method of transmission. There has to be direct blood-to-blood contact for the virus to pass from one person to another.” 

Carter sighed. “That’s good.” 

The Major’s head drooped, then raised slowly to continue her report to her CO. “The Ferretu didn’t seem to understand the importance of our equipment, so they didn’t bother any of that. We lost a few glass vials and some medications, but we can replace those come sunrise.”  She checked her watch. “Which should be in another nine hours or so. 

“Our weapons were a surprise to them, which is good. The zats were pretty ineffective, but our standard issue weapons work if we take off their heads with ‘em.  For now, I think the Ferretu were scared off more than damaged, which means they could be back for a second try.” 

“You’ve swept the village, checked every residence, secured every door?” Jack demanded, wincing as the suture needle sank into his flesh again. Subcutaneous anesthetics were in short supply after all the injuries that had been treated, so Janet was working on him without it. He’d sewn himself up in the field on several occasions, but it was never fun. She was good, though, thorough and fast. He’d give her that. 

“Yes, sir. We’ve set up a hospital in the temple to treat the injured villagers.” She sighed. “And we found one of the Ferretu that hadn’t quite finished healing. We put him in the cell Daniel was in originally.” 

Jack looked at Doctor Fraiser as she snipped the last piece of suture. “There’s your guinea pig, doc. Not exactly how we planned to acquire it, but…” He raised his eyes to his 2IC. “Carter, find Rawnie and the Sing. The old lady deserves to know who left the fucking door open.” 

Sam’s surprise was palpable. “Rawnie? But she’s the Sing’s apprentice! She should know better than anybody—“ 

“She did,” Jack assured her. “But her boyfriend turned, and I suspect it’s _not_ because he opened up the wrong door. I think he went out to join them voluntarily, and convinced her to help him turn everybody else.” 

“Holy Hannah,” she breathed. Shock gave way to anger, and fire sparkled in her sapphire eyes. “I’ll go find her, sir. _If_ she’s still here.” 

“Doctor Fraiser,” he said softly after Carter had gone, “let’s go check on Daniel. Make sure he’s still where we left him.” 

“You haven’t heard from Teal’c?” 

“Not a word since the battle started.” 

Janet stripped off her latex gloves and left the suture tray where it was. Grabbing another pair of clean gloves, she took her bag in hand and followed Jack back to the temple. Teal’c was nowhere in sight, and Jack cautiously pushed open the door. 

Daniel stood over the Jaffa, still and quiet on the floor. Those blue eyes turned up to regard the intruder, and he smiled seductively. “Hello, Jack,” he purred. 

Jack pulled his sidearm and thumbed the safety off in one smooth motion. “Stay right where you are, Daniel, or whoever you are,” he ordered, his voice kept carefully even in order to hide his fear and concern for both men. “I don’t wanna have to kill you, but I most certainly _will_ if you make the wrong move. Now, step away from Teal’c, hands up.” 

He turned his head slightly to help his voice carry through the open door without taking his eyes off Daniel. “Doctor Fraiser, inside, right now,” he ordered. 

Instantly, the weary doctor was there, standing just behind his left elbow.  “Need my help, Colonel?” she asked, eyeing her patient. 

Never taking his attention off Daniel, he told her, “We need to get him back on that bed and tied down, Doc. If he makes one wrong move, I’m gonna blow some pretty significant holes in him, so yeah. You could come in handy.” 

Daniel raised his hands into the air, his movements graceful, sensual, alien. “I’m not going to hurt anybody,” he promised, his voice deep and soft. His eyes were bright and heavy-lidded, as if he might be sleepy. He looked wanton. _Sexy. Hot._

O’Neill felt it, felt the desire rising in his belly. Even with his nose plugs firmly in place, there was still an uncomfortable influence happening. Daniel was playing him and he knew it, but reason and training won out. “Tell that to Teal’c,” Jack growled. “Now, be a good boy and get back on the table.”  He indicated the bed with his free hand, keeping his sidearm firmly aimed at its target.  “Move it.  Before I have to shoot you.” 

“Okay, Jack.”  He smiled, a whisper of a laugh on his breath.  “I’ll do whatever you want.”  Those eyes glittered coldly, and they dilated even further, till they were almost black. 

And then he moved.  As fast as lightning, he charged, pushing the bed out of the way and grabbing Doctor Fraiser, holding her in front of him like a shield. One arm wrapped around her throat, and Daniel reached up to snatch away her nose plugs. 

She stopped struggling almost immediately, her hands smoothing along his arm across her neck. 

“There, that’s better!” he purred. “Now you can breathe, Janet.” He caressed her face with his free hand, and Janet seemed to lean heavily against him. 

“Daaaaniellllll,” she whispered, melting against him. “Oh, baby. Let me help you.” 

“I _want_ you to help me,” he rumbled in her ear, his eyes on Jack. “And I’ll be just fine, as soon as we get back to the base. We’re going to go for a walk now. You want to come with me, don't you, Doctor Beautiful?” Backing out the storeroom door, he kept Janet’s body between him and Jack, his forearm wrapped around her slender neck, using her as a shield. 

"Yes," she sighed languidly. "We'll go back to the base, to the infirmary. Anything you want, honey buns." 

Taking aim, O’Neill knew there was only one way to get the doctor free. He clenched his teeth, damning himself that he’d let this happen. Tears blurred his vision slightly, and were blinked away. “Sorry, Daniel,” he said, fixing the pistol’s sighting mechanism on his friend’s forehead. “I wish there had been another way. But I’m not going to shoot Doctor Fraiser to stop you. And I can’t let you take her. You _know_ that.” 

Daniel’s eyes never left Jack’s face. “You won’t kill me, Jack,” he murmured huskily. “I mean too much to you. You _love_ me, don’t you? You’ve never been as close to anyone as you are to me. You _need_ me.” 

“I _won’t_ let this happen to you, Daniel.” He started to squeeze the trigger, slowly, praying for another way out. 

“Ooooh, Daniel, you’re so _hot,”_ Janet breathed, her head falling back against him, her eyes rolling slowly closed, his influence over her devastatingly obvious. “I want to feel your hands on me, please…” 

Daniel’s expression slipped, changing from darkly aroused to confused and uncertain. He shook his head, as if to clear his vision, and stumbled a little. Then his eyes slid closed. His grip on the doctor loosened, and he fell to the floor, unconscious, taking her with him.

  
Jack jerked Janet to her feet, retrieved the nose plugs from where Daniel had tossed them, and forced them on her again. A few breaths later, horror surfaced as she regained control of her faculties and turned to regard the man on the floor. Trembling and shaken, she helped Jack pick Daniel up and return him to the bed, refastening the restraints and cinching them down as tightly as they would go. 

“His fever’s up,” Janet told him. “The disease lost its hold on him for a while, but he’s getting weaker, sir. That’s why he passed out. It’s harder for him to resist now, because the sickness is gaining control and keeping it longer.” 

The threat Daniel posed contained for the moment, Jack kneeled beside Teal’c, patting the Jaffa’s face and calling his name. 

It took him a moment to rouse, and when he did, Teal’c scrambled to his feet. “O’Neill.  I came into the storeroom in answer to DanielJackson’s cries for help. What happened? Why am I bleeding?” He glanced down at the ragged tear across his bicep. 

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” he told the other man. “We were under attack by the Ferretu. Somebody left the doors open.” 

“The fighting is over?” Teal’c was both incredulous and disheartened that he had completely missed the battle and had been unable to come to their aid. 

“Yeah. But I’m guessing there was a fight in here, too. You don’t remember anything?” 

Teal’c frowned, thinking hard. “DanielJackson seemed to be in pain. He asked for water and when I went to bring him some… It was very odd.  There was a sound, like a whisper in the depths of my mind, guiding me to…” 

“Unfasten Daniel’s restraints?” Jack guessed. 

The Jaffa’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame. “Yes. I believed it was necessary to help him, so that we might continue to fight the Goa’uld together. I did not understand what I saw myself doing. In my mind I saw DanielJackson stand and face me, and I knew what I had done was wrong. I tried to force him back to the bed, but he fought me. He was very strong, O’Neill. And none of what was happening seemed… real. It was like a dream.” 

“Looks like you’re not as immune as we thought,” Jack observed. “Maybe it just took a little longer for you. Head back to the hall and get a set of nose plugs from Carter. Have her check you out till Doc Fraiser can get back and do the once-over.” 

Teal’c bowed in acknowledgement of the order, and left the room. 

“Thirsty,” Daniel rasped from the bed as he roused. 

Janet checked his temperature. “One-oh-four point seven,” she announced. There was alarm in her eyes as she glanced at Jack. From the shelves behind her, she took a sealed bottle of water, uncapped it, and brought it to his lips. 

Violently, Daniel jerked away, crying out as a few drops of the liquid trickled across his cheek. 

“Daniel, you’re dehydrating without the IV,” she told him. “The fever’s burning you up! You need liquids. Come on, drink!” 

“Oh, God!” he wailed. “I want to, but I can’t! It hurts!  Please help me!” 

Janet eyed the Colonel. “I’m going back to the hall for another IV kit and a bag of lactated ringer’s solution. We’ve _got_ to keep him hydrated.” 

“I’ll wait here.”  Jack watched her leave. 

He looked down at Daniel, that maddening magnetism now completely gone, but terror at losing Daniel gripping his heart. He took the man’s hand and gave it a squeeze. The temperature of his heated skin shocked Jack, but he didn’t let that show on his face.  He did his best to smile, hoping his fear didn’t show in his eyes. 

“We’re gonna help you, Daniel,” he promised, stroking his forehead and looking down into those terrified, tortured blue eyes. 

“Just kill me, Jack,” the other man begged hoarsely. “I can’t stand this anymore! I’m not gonna get well. I _know_ what’s happening to me now. And I know what I’m doing to you. Please.” 

Those azure eyes filled with anguish and overflowed, tears streaming across his temples. “Please, Jack. I don’t wanna become…” A sob broke out of him. “Oh, God…” He closed his eyes. 

O’Neill squeezed his hand more firmly. “I’m _not_ gonna let that happen to you, Daniel. I _promise_. Just hang in there. Give us a little more time.” 

Daniel was trembling with fever, his teeth chattering, so hot his skin was dry as paper.  “No. Please.”  His eyes rolled back in his head, and his voice faded in and out with consciousness, lost now in delirium. “Just put your pistol… yeah… just like that. Easy. So easy. Squeeze the trigger… all over now. Do it, Jaaa…” His head rolled limply to one side, eyes closed, breathing shallow. 

Jack let out a sigh and wiped the tear that leaked from his left eye. This was hard, one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. In his mind, he could clearly envision himself pulling out his sidearm, pressing the muzzle against Daniel’s temple, and killing him. He heard the explosion echoing in his imagination, saw the blood, bone and gray matter flying out the other side of the man’s skull. 

He bowed his head, a memory surging white-hot into his consciousness. 

_Taking aim at Ra with that staff weapon… Daniel with his back to him, just ahead, waving his arms and calling out as the Jaffa on guard took aim… Daniel moving his body into the line of fire, sacrificing his own life to save the warrior behind him… Daniel dropping to the floor, stone dead, still and silent, while a still vibrantly alive Jack O’Neill looked down at him.   It should have been the other way around._

“I won’t let you die, Daniel,” he whispered, his free hand stroking over the other man’s hot forehead. “I can’t! I can’t lose you. You’re one of the few people who’s ever really given a damn about me. Even when you didn’t even _like_ me.” 

Daniel’s eyes flew open. “Jack!” he called breathlessly. He started to struggle against the bonds, flinging his body violently from side to side, struggling to sit up. 

Jack let go of him and backed a step away, afraid of this sudden, inexplicable behavior. That he was in pain was obvious, but Jack didn’t have a clue what caused it. “What is it, Daniel? What’s wrong?” 

The other man was screaming now, long, anguished wails of agony tearing from his throat. He clawed at his hip with his fingernails as his body shifted close enough that he could touch himself. He arched up off the bed, nearly strangling himself against the neck restraint while his fingers scraped against the blankets covering him.   

Doctor Fraiser darted into the room, pulled into a run by the screams. “What’s happening, Colonel?” 

“I don’t know! He looked like he passed out, and then he woke up and started doing this.”  Jack grabbed his hair, holding on to keep a grip on his sanity.  “Christ, what’s happening to him, Doc?”  This was just too much for him to bear.  He couldn’t stand seeing Daniel like that.  It was shredding his soul. 

She bent over her patient, her voice loud and strident with authority. “Talk to me, Daniel. Tell me what’s happening. What are you feeling?” 

_“EVERYthing!”_ he screamed.  “Sound, light, taste, smell, my skin!  It’s too much!  Aaaaaahh!  Make it _STOP_!  Oh, God, pleeeeease!” 

“Colonel O’Neill, hold him,” Janet ordered. “I’ve got to get this IV started—“ 

Jack took a step forward, but just as suddenly as it began, the paroxysm of agony ended.  The sudden silence was deafening for a moment, making Jack’s ears throb with the echoes of Daniel’s screams. He looked down at his friend, those big blue eyes wide and staring, the pupils huge and black. 

_Blink.  
_

_Blink._

A loud, convulsive swallow.  

Daniel stared at the ceiling for a moment, then his eyes closed, and his head lolled to the side with a harsh exhalation of breath. 

“Thank God,” Janet breathed, her stethoscope pressed to Daniel’s chest. “He’s unconscious.” 

“Not dead?” Jack’s heart was doing a tap dance against his ribs. This was scaring the shit out of him on a whole lot of levels. 

“ _Not_ dead,” she assured him. “If I were guessing, I’d say we just witnessed some kind of sensory overload, and given what I know about the progress of this illness – which really isn’t much – I’m guessing it’s starting to do some serious work on changing his brain and how it processes sensory information. It may be a sign that he’s entering the final stage of the disease.” 

She sighed. “In addition to the heightened brain function and suppression of impulse control, it’s totally reworking his personality; in essence, rewriting the sum total of who Daniel is in his own mind. We’re losing him, sir, and I’m not sure, even if we find some way to stop the progression of the disease, that we’ll ever be able to get him back the way he was.” 

Jack’s stomach flipped over. That announcement hit him like a blow to the gut and left him gagging. “Jesus,” he whispered, running a hand wearily over his face. 

Doctor Fraiser went to work plugging the IV assembly into a vein in the back of Daniel’s hand. She hung up a bag of normal saline on the metal arm suspended above Daniel’s head.  Then she inserted a fresh Foley catheter to replace the one Daniel had obviously pulled out earlier, when Teal’c had helped him out of his restraints. Janet pulled a syringe out of her pocket, injected it into the tubing port of the IV.  “That’s all I can do for now, sir,” she reported with a sigh.  “Fluids and a sedative.” 

Turning back to face the Colonel, she added, “I’m not giving up, you know. We’re going to have to leave him locked up in here alone from now on, and I’ve asked Siler to install some kind of lock on the door so that only you or I can get in.  We’ll need someone posted outside to make sure of that, too. We can’t risk exposure for more than a few minutes at a time here and there, as necessary for testing, treatments, or to assess the disease’s progress. And as soon as you’re ready, I want to do a full exam on that Ferretu we’re holding.” 

“You’re dead on your feet, Doc,” he reminded her. “The adrenaline rush from the battle’s starting to fade now, and you need to get some rest if you’re gonna make it through this long nightmare in one piece. We need your brain at a hundred percent. How ‘bout you go for a nap for a couple hours, then pick up again?” 

“I’d love to, but we don’t have the time to waste.”  At Jack’s skeptical look, she told him, “I’m really concerned, Colonel.  Time is of the essence, now more than ever.” 

Jack pursed his lips and examined the toes of his boots.  “I hear ya,” he said softly as he lifted his eyes to meet hers. He nodded grimly. “Okay.” 

So they agreed.  Janet gave him a tight nod.  “I’ll try to pick a sedative that might work on this Ferretu. If we can knock it out, that’ll make it easier. If not, well… maybe you ought to ask for volunteers.” 

“You got it, Doc.” With one last look back at Daniel, he followed her out of the storeroom and saw that Sergeant Siler’s bite wound had been treated and bandaged. 

The man got started right away on Daniel’s door, affixing a lock to it that would ensure it stayed closed until Jack or Doctor Fraiser wanted it opened again. Oddly comforted by that, Jack half staggered after the equally exhausted doctor in search of his troops, so they could all take a good, close look at a real, live vampire. 

* * *

 

 ** _82 Hours_**

Jack stood outside the silver door to the Ferretu’s cell with his teammates standing by, all armed and pointing their weapons toward the door. Janet checked their nose plugs to make sure they were properly secured, gave them all latex gloves to don, then gave a nod to Jack that all was ready once they were properly suited up. The Colonel made eye contact with Carter and Teal’c, and on his signal the Major opened the door. Teal’c eased inside cautiously. 

“Do not resist us, and we will not harm you,” the Jaffa warned. 

Instantly, the creature bolted into action, darting for the open doorway.  

Teal’c swung at its head with his staff, but it dodged him with a gymnast’s grace and inhuman speed. 

Jack blocked the doorway with his body, knife in hand. He jammed it into the thing’s gut, forcing it back into the room, ignoring the ice-cold, spurting gore now covering the latex barrier over his hand. 

Teal’c caught the creature by the shoulders, jerking it backward. The Ferretu righted itself and pivoted to face him, then leaped with mouth open and sharp fangs springing into view.  It landed on the Jaffa’s shoulder and ripped open two long, ragged wounds that poured with Teal’c’s blood. 

Teal’c cried out in startled pain, grasped a handful of the thing’s long blond hair, and yanked it backwards in an effort to pull it off him.  

Then suddenly it flung itself away, spitting and coughing up the droplets of Teal’c’s blood it had tried to swallow.   “Foul beast!” it hissed at him.  It cringed in one corner of the cell like a rabid wild thing, its eyes narrowed, its reddened mouth twisted up in a sneer of disgust.  "Your blood is tainted!  What manner of creature _are_ you?"  

“Look who’s talkin’,” Jack growled back, sheathing his bloody knife. "I guess they don't like the naquadah flavoring you and Carter have, T."  Without another word, he pulled his sidearm and shot it in the shoulder, the neck, and in the chest. 

The vampire fell to the floor on its side.  It snarled and growled at them in fury, but for the moment, it was unable to stand, lying in a crumpled heap in the tiny room.  Before their eyes, the gunshot wounds made in its body began to close.  

“Hurry up with that sedative, doc,” Jack called in a nervous voice.  He quickly holstered his sidearm.  Jack pinned the Ferretu’s head to the floor with his knee, pressing his hands against its torso to keep it down with his body weight. Teal’c straddled the vampire’s bent knees and sat on them, then pressed one of its arms against the floor, holding the other wrenched tightly behind its back. The two men effectively prevented the creature from moving. 

Janet stepped in and injected a syringe full of medication into a vein in the crook of its elbow, then backed out of the room to wait to see what effect it would have. While she waited, she dropped the used syringe into a small portable sharps container before drawing up another syringe of sedative.  She capped it and placed it in her lab coat pocket. 

“Okay, Carter,” Jack called. He and Teal’c made room for her to join them, maintaining their hold on the thing’s body for safety.  

The Major hurried into the little room on his command, squatted down by the vampire’s feet and looped a length of garlic rope around its ankles, tying the restraint securely. In mere moments, by the time the creature’s whole body had been bound with several lengths of the rope, it seemed to be fully healed. It was none too happy to find itself tied up on the bloody floor, its arms securely bound to its sides, but helpless to resist them for the moment. 

That done, the trio lifted the vampire off the floor, standing it upright against the wall. 

“There is no need for all this,” it assured Carter in a sensual whisper, looking down on her fair head as she secured an extra length of garlic braids around its neck. “I mean you no harm. You are strangers to our world and do not know the battles we fight for our survival. These people hunt us, and we fight them merely to ensure our own survival. Let us show you how congenial we can be,” the vile thing cajoled.  “We are _hardly_ the monsters they claim.” 

Sam backed away from it at last, her face twisted in horror and revulsion. 

“Shut up, Count Dracula,” Jack rasped. “Or I’ll _shut_ you up.” 

“My name is Mihnea,” the vampire said cordially. The smile it gave them was hideous, still smeared with Teal’c’s blood. It didn’t seem to be aware of how ghastly it looked.  

“I _said_ , shut the fuck _up!”_ Jack ordered. He pulled his knife again and pressed the blade against the Ferretu’s throat in warning. But he could feel the creature gathering itself for something. 

Jack turned his head slightly, glancing at Janet. “Doc, wanna try again with the sedative? I don’t think this one’s working.”  He and Teal’c kept it propped up against the wall. 

She was ready with syringe in hand, but hesitated. “We need to wait another minute or two, sir. I already gave him enough to put a horse down!” 

“Then give him some more,” Jack snapped. “Because he’s still talkin’, so it obviously wasn’t enough.” 

“None of your concoctions will work on us, human,” Mihnea declared confidently. “We are far… beyond your…” His eyes rolled back and his head dropped forward onto his chest. Jack and Teal’c pushed hard against its body to keep it upright and pinned against the wall. 

Jack gave Doctor Fraiser the nod, and she and Carter moved in and began to collect blood, tissue and DNA samples. In time, Janet finished with her collections and stepped out into the corridor. 

“Time to get to work,” she told Jack, eyeing her various samples. She looked back up at him. “You might wanna block off the hallway so no one goes near that door,” she suggested. 

“Already on it,” Jack assured her with a glance at his teammates as the doctor returned to the great hall. “Okay. Let’s see if we can get this guy secured somehow.” He nodded his head, and Carter stepped out into the corridor to make room for Sergeant Siler just as the creature began to rouse. Keeping his pistol trained on Mihnea’s head, Jack warned the beast to keep still. 

Wisely, the vampire obeyed, but it kept talking, laughing softly at them, teasing, taunting, and cajoling them.  It seemed to find their efforts pitiful, alternating oily attempts to influence them with spiteful jeers. 

Siler carried in lengths of steel pipe and a nail gun, making fast and noisy progress, fixing the pipe in a framework to the stone wall. When that was done, Carter wrapped Mihnea’ legs in a large sheet of Tyvek, an incredibly strong but thin bonded plastic material, and then its body was chained to the steel frame, looking like a mummy caught in a spider’s web. 

When they felt as if the creature were well secured, they stepped out of the room, closed and locked the door, leaving the monster strapped to the wall, howling and spitting its impotent rage and hatred.  

Jack’s team followed him back to the great hall, no order given; none necessary. Moments later, they were back with more sheets of Tyvek, which they Superglued to the walls to block off the passageway. The material would resist tearing but could be easily cut in case they needed access to the vampire again. Temporarily, it would have to do as a barrier, and the Sing stationed several of her most trusted people at each barrier, since Jack didn’t have people enough to spare for guard duty. 

The villagers were still looking for Rawnie, and until she was found, Jack knew she was the biggest threat to everyone there, especially with her vamped boyfriend tied up in that closet. At some point, she was bound to try to rescue him, but they’d be waiting. And when they found her, everyone would be able to breathe a little easier. Until then, they’d still have to be prepared for anything. 

All it took to damn them all was one door open to the night, and there were lots of doors to the outside in the village. 

The whole mission was turning into a crapshoot, and Jack didn’t like those odds at all. 

* * *

 

 ** _60 Hours_**

Daniel opened his eyes to the nearly dark room, lit by a pair of wall sconces fixed beside the door. He sighed and tried to look down at himself, but the neck restraint stopped him from lifting his head. He moved experimentally against the padded leather bonds, reassuring himself that they were still fastened, that the nightmare was still happening and he wasn’t going to wake up from it any time soon. 

Tears filled his eyes and were blinked away. There was no use feeling sorry for himself. What had happened was real, and the SGC was dealing with it. They were doing everything they could, so he might as well stop concentrating on the negative and see if there weren’t something fruitful and positive he could do in the interim. 

He tried to busy himself with mentally exploring what he could see of the room.  Some of the ceremonial items he recognized, but they seemed out of place in that European-based culture. Hecate had been a Greek goddess and her influence had been marginal at best, even in the height of Greece’s ancient glory days. He knew what she was famous for, though, and that fit with the nocturnal aspect of the planet. 

There were robes and jars of unguents, incense and braziers for burning ritual sacrifices. The temple itself had been austere, with few decorations other than the statues of what he assumed were the maiden, mother and crone aspects of the triune goddess’s personality. He expected it to be chiefly a cult of women, represented by the maternally controlled society of which the Sing was primary leader. 

He tried to concentrate, to keep learning and thinking about the situation, in case something important came of it later, but his head hurt, and the more he tried to make his mind work, the harder it became. He closed his eyes and sighed, listening to the silence, grateful for the blankets that helped comfort him against the chill. 

_Jack_ had given him the blankets, because Jack _loved_ him. 

Picturing that familiar face made him smile, until he remembered the last time he’d seen it, those brown eyes fixed on him with warning gleaming in their depths. Daniel had been holding Janet Fraiser, hadn’t he? Standing in the hall, walking her away from Jack. He could barely remember what he’d done while under the influence of the disease. All of it was like a bad dream; hard to grasp and hold, but the more he pursued the memories, the more he recalled. 

“Oh, God,” he whispered to the empty room. 

It was instinctive for him to want to go home, to the comfort of the familiar and safe, but the disease coursing through his body was playing on that drive, enhancing it not only in himself, but in all those who were close to him, in an effort to spread itself further. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t endanger his world again, as he had so blithely done under Hathor’s control. Already he’d nearly escaped, manipulating those he loved into getting him to the ‘gate. 

_All but Jack._

The Colonel had remained steadfast, facing him down in the corridor, threatening to kill him if he didn’t get back into the restraints. Daniel knew Jack wanted to fight for his friend’s life, but that would only grow harder to do.  Daniel could feel how the sickness was affecting him. His mind was filled with horrifyingly alien images  –  of luring both men and women into his arms so he could feed on them, choosing between individuals like one might select ripe peaches at the market, dropping the empty husk when he was sated, with no regard for what he’d done. The hunger was strong and growing more so every minute, and soon he wouldn’t care who got close enough to be chosen. They would simply be… _delicious_. 

“Oh, please,” he whimpered. “Am I in Hell?  Somebody, help me!  I don’t want to be that.”  Huge tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over his temples, his nose filling with mucous so he could hardly breathe.  Tied down, he couldn’t even wipe his face. 

He turned his head toward the door, his body quivering with revulsion and fear. He cried out for Jack, begging for him as loudly as he could, but his shouts for help went unanswered. Closing his eyes, he searched his soul for that faint connection and tugged on it, praying for a response. 

“Please, Jack,” he whispered. “Come to me.  Come through that door and put me out of my misery, before I hurt someone. I _need_ you. I need you to be strong and do this for me, before it’s too late.” He continued to cry as he waited, ragged sobs escaping his chapped lips.  

Jack would help him, because that was what friends did for each other.  He would _come_.  He just _had_ to. 

There was only one way out of this mess his curiosity had gotten him into on that bizarre nocturnal world. If he could make Jack understand, he knew his friend would help him die. 

He just hoped he could talk to Jack before he fell victim to the persuasion the disease made Daniel use on those who were not infected with it. Deep in his soul, he knew Jack was particularly at risk, because of the strength of the bond that stretched between them. Already Daniel had felt himself tugging on it, drawing the other man closer, twisting that connection into something dark and perverted. Daniel could sense the line that lay between them, that uncrossable line that had the potential to corrupt their relationship into something else, something he knew Jack didn’t want. 

That was a battle Daniel had already been struggling to fight alone, before they’d ever set foot on this nightmare planet. Until now, he’d been keeping it at bay. Now, it was stronger than he was, playing on his desire for Jack and forcing him to act on it. 

He knew that, if the influence were strong enough, if Jack got close enough, Daniel would make Jack come to him. He knew he would, because Daniel wanted it, too. Since he’d been infected, visions of the two of them in bed coursed constantly through the back of his mind. Every time he looked at Jack, he ached to touch him, to hold him close and kiss him. He’d never felt anything as fierce as that desire. 

Jack wouldn’t be strong enough to resist, and Daniel knew it. Jack loved him, and Daniel was his greatest weakness. The disease “knew” that, sensed it somehow, played on it, and it would use that as a weapon against them both, bringing them together in a hideous corruption of the love they felt for each other. Under normal circumstances, Daniel was sure that Jack would never touch him sexually, but under the sway of the disease, Jack would let Daniel do anything he wanted.  _Anything_.  Jack would be his and they would be together, but not in any human way. 

Horrified, Daniel whimpered again, choking on his tears. Of all those closest to him, Jack was the one he needed most. And in order to keep Jack close, he wouldn’t just be a quick meal once Daniel got what he wanted from him. Jack would be first on the list for conversion, and if the disease got into _him,_ there would be no stopping it. Their friendship had to be strong enough to make the sacrifice. Daniel had to be stronger than Jack to convince him to act. 

“Strength of water,” he murmured to the empty room, remembering what the Sing had said about him that first night. “Strength that wears away stone.” 

But in his own way, Jack was the stronger one. He always had been, and wouldn’t hesitate when the time came to do his duty, even if it were Daniel on the receiving end of the bullet. _Especially_ if it were him. What he felt for Jack went beyond what he had shared with any other human being except possibly his wife. He and Jack didn’t always get along because they were so different – fire and water, as the Sing had said – but underneath all the arguing and friction was a cosmic understanding of one another that made most communication unnecessary. 

Jack would know what Daniel needed. And if he had to, Jack would kill Daniel to keep him from this horror, because he cared. It was as simple as that. 

With a sigh, Daniel sniffed and made a valiant effort to stop crying.  He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, hoping it would all be over soon. He was in torment, and this time even his mind had betrayed him, leading him into territory that no human being should ever enter, not if they wanted to remain sane. He was painfully aware of the monster he was becoming, and utterly powerless to stop the transformation. 

He fought off the dreams for as long as he could, and when his strength deserted him, he slipped into unconsciousness and committed himself into Jack’s capable, loving hands. 

* * *

 ** _21 Hours_**

“Doctor Fraiser, I’m _ordering_ you to get some sleep,” the Colonel told the woman. He saw her stumble and fall onto her chair, practically asleep on her feet. “If you don’t get some shut-eye, you could make a mistake in calculations or something. We can’t take that risk. I need you sharp.” 

Janet shook her head, trying to focus on the report in her hand. “You’re right, Colonel. I’ll do that in a minute. I think we’re getting somewhere with our research, and I’ve started putting Sam and Tanner on shifts. Sixteen hours on, four hours off to sleep where possible.” 

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them wide and blinked at the papers, trying to focus. “The Ferretu show unbelievable insensitivity to pain in addition to the rapid healing, so there is a great deal of neurological involvement with this disease, as we suspected.” 

She looked at her watch. “Sir, we’re running out of time here. Daniel’s fallen into a coma. His body temp is dropping steadily, and I’m guessing he’s got about twenty hours before this thing either kills him or completes its transformation. After that…” 

“Take four hours,” the Colonel ordered. He laid his hand on her shoulder. “If there’s a way to cure these folks after they’ve gone fully vamp, I’m sure you’ll find it. And if not… four hours may not make much difference anyway.” He reached for her elbow and helped her to her feet. “Come on. I saw an empty cot over this way.” 

She didn’t protest as he guided her toward the bed and helped her into it. Squatting down beside her, he pulled a blanket over her and saw that she was already fast asleep. Four hours would hardly be enough, but it would have to do. He checked his watch, having a little difficulty making out the numbers clearly enough to read. He stood up, wobbling a little, and looked around for his second. 

“Carter!” he barked. “Get me up in two hours.” He looked around for another cot, and was already asleep as his body careened face first toward the canvas. 

* * *

 

 ** _19 Hours_**

“It’s time, sir,” came the voice through a haze of exhaustion. 

Mechanically, Jack sat up on the cot, trying to remember where he was and why he was so tired.  His eyes focused on an old woman standing not far away, smiling at him with grief in her eyes. It took him a moment to remember who she was. 

“The Sing asked to have a word with you,” Carter told him with a weary sigh. 

“Yeah, sure,” he replied automatically. “Meanwhile, _you_ crash for a couple hours, Carter. That’s an order.” 

He heard the Major hit the cot after he rose and walked toward the coffee pot for a dose of caffeine. The old woman stood at his elbow, waiting until he had downed two cups of the strong black brew before speaking. 

“May I speak privately with you, Colonel?” 

“After I make a trip to the bathroom.” The old woman’s blank stare told him she didn’t know that word, and he couldn’t think of what they called it here. “I need your…uh… facilities?” 

“Ah. This way.” She took him to a stall that reminded him of his grandparents’ outhouse but without the smell, and when he’d finished, she walked with him toward the temple. “Tell me about your friend, Doctor Jackson.” 

“Well… he’s real smart. Doctor of a bunch of things. Knows a lot of history, languages, that sort of stuff.” 

“That is _not_ what I wish to know,” she returned with a serious expression, as if Jack should have known better.  “How do you feel about him? How important is he to you?” 

Jack felt the walls come up in his soul. This wasn’t the sort of thing he discussed with anybody, much less a near stranger. “He’s a pain in the ass most of the time, but he’s basically a good guy. Like you said, we’re like fire and water. Total opposites.  But I suppose he’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” 

“You care very much for him, then,” she read correctly. When he didn’t deny it she added, “Why? What has he done to earn his place in your heart?” 

_Abydos, stepping into the line of fire. Figuring out the ‘gate screw-up that landed him and Carter in Antarctica. Dying from a mortal wound and asking to be left behind, for the sake of the mission. Giving the alien orb that nailed Jack to the ‘gate room wall someplace else to go. Steadfastly refusing to leave his side when his brain was being overwritten by the Ancients’ technology._

Jack turned his gaze down at the flagstone floor of the corridor. “Saved my life a few times. Sometimes with his big honkin’ brain. Sometimes with his big bleedin’ heart.” He paused and looked her right in the eye. A full confession would go nowhere with these people. He could be honest with them. “And a couple times he died tryin’ to protect me. We always got him back, though. Obviously.” 

The Sing nodded, a wise smile spreading across her face and sparkling in her eyes. “Then you are right.  He undoubtedly is the most important friend you have.” She sighed, that brief flicker of joy vanishing quickly. “You feel responsible for him, for his illness?” 

“He’s under my command when we’re in the field, so, yeah. I _am_ responsible for him and for what happened to him. For _all_ my people.” Jack hesitated, since he was afraid that the direction this conversation was going led into dangerous territory. “What’s your point, ma’am?” He yawned and rubbed his face, still trying to wake up completely, and to avoid letting her know how painful her prods into his soul were. 

With a sudden jolt of longing that left him stumbling as he walked, he knew he wanted to go home.  He wanted to never have come to this godforsaken place with his team.  Christ, he wanted to grab Daniel up and just wipe away what was happening to him.  They were caught in a nightmare of epic proportions, and he didn’t know what to do. 

He stopped walking, only with effort not falling to his knees.  He leaned against the wall of the hallway they were traveling through, one hand over his eyes.  He felt her hand touch his arm, and he shook himself and with effort raised his eyes to meet her gaze. 

“He has great power over you, man of fire,” she told him gently. There were tears in her eyes. “As water can quench a fire, you must be on constant guard against him. The man you love so deeply for his sacrifices will not be there much longer, Colonel. What will take his place can use that power to sway you to do the unthinkable. Be careful. When you look at him, you cannot afford to see your friend. If you do, you will be lost, and all the good you seek to do here will fail.” 

Jack remembered Teal’c giving him the same advice concerning Carter, when Jolinar had taken her as a host before they’d found out the symbiote was Tok’ra and not Goa’uld. 

“I’m not ready to let him go just yet, ma’am. He’s important to a lot of my people, not just to me.” That was true, but it was also a smokescreen, and he knew it. Still, the decision was out of his hands now. Doctor Fraiser was the boss in that respect, and he depended on her judgment to tell him when it was time to give up hope. Until she gave the word, he’d hold onto that slender thread for all he was worth. 

The Sing gave his arm a squeeze, her eyes haunted. “Cast him out into the coming day while you can, Colonel O’Neill. You have the strength in you to do it. Those who follow you do not. And in the end, all of you will pay too high a price for your love and compassion if you let him live.” 

She gazed up at him a moment longer, then turned and walked away, head bowed with care and sorrow. 

“You’re probably right, ma’am,” he returned, his voice raspy with sleep, “but we have medicine you don’t. I trust Doctor Fraiser to either figure this thing out, or tell me when to give up. If we can’t cure him, I’ll be the one to end him. You can count on that. But we have…” He glanced at his chronometer, stared trying to do the calculation in his fuzzy brain. “…nineteen hours. I hope you’ll give us the grace of trying, because this is for your people, too.” 

“If you succeed, Colonel, you will have earned a friendship with my people that will never die.” She bowed deeply and left him to his mission. 

Dead on his feet and thinking none too clearly, Jack felt the need to see his friend, to assure himself that Daniel was still alive. He stumbled toward the storeroom, giving Teal’c a nod as he stood guard outside the door. 

“Go get a bite to eat,” Jack told him. “Take a break and be back in twenty. I’ll stand watch till then.” 

Teal’c nodded and headed toward the great hall, even the Jaffa showing signs of fatigue. 

Jack waited till the big man was out of sight, checking the hallway left and right before turning to the door behind him. Knowing what he was doing was risky but not heeding that inner voice screaming a warning in the back of his mind, Jack unlocked the door and pulled it open.  

For a few seconds, he let his eyes adjust to the dim glow of the lamps beside the door. He eyed the man on the bed, who was much too still for Jack’s liking. Checking his nose plug, he moved closer, watching Daniel's chest for the rise and fall of breath.  Shocked that he didn't see it, he reached out to touch his friend’s bare arm.  It was ice cold. 

"Jesus, Daniel," he whispered, his heart clogging his throat in fear. There was no response. Doctor Fraiser had said he was in a coma, but this felt like… _death_. 

He drew closer to the bed, leaned over and pressed his ear to Daniel's chilly chest, just short of panic, aware that his state of exhaustion was clouding his thoughts but desperately needing quick assurance that Daniel was still alive. 

He listened. There was no _ba-thum-pum_ of a heartbeat. Instead, he heard a _whish-shoosh_ , a sound of gentler, lazier motion, but a possible heartbeat, nonetheless. He closed his eyes, listening harder for something recognizable. Daniel _couldn't_ be gone yet! Janet had said _one more day._

Jack kept his ear pressed against that chilled flesh, listening intently, his body relaxing from sheer exhaustion. He closed his eyes, screening out sight to heighten his hearing, hoping for something more, something that sounded human. Weariness crept up again, and his body responded eagerly. Jack fell asleep, his legs locked into place, head resting against his younger friend's chest. 

"You need to breathe," whispered a soft, familiar voice some time later. "Take a deep breath, Jack. That's why you're so tired." 

Jack trusted that voice and scratched at his nose. Something was pinching it. It was uncomfortable, and his fingers unconsciously dragged it off. He inhaled, breathing in deeply through his nostrils. It felt good, filling his lungs like that. It made him feel alive. 

"That's it," the voice cooed. "Deep breaths. That's good, Jack." 

Energy surged through him, chasing away the fog in his brain. O'Neill straightened, looking down at the handsome man on the bed. Jack felt good; better than he could remember feeling in a very long time – almost euphoric. "How are you feeling, Danny?" he asked warmly, a broad grin spreading over his face. 

“Better, now that you’re here with me,” Daniel whispered with a happy smile. 

Jack _loved_ this man, loved him more than he ever had anyone, male or female.  With a pang of regret, he realized he’d never told Daniel so. That kind of love between men was supposed to be wrong, but it didn’t feel wrong now. 

He stroked Daniel’s face tenderly, and then leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips.  Soft lips, just as he’d imagined they’d be. Sweet and cool and delicious, kissing him back eagerly.  

"That was very nice," Daniel purred with a big smile, "but I’m a little restricted, Jack. Why don't you take these straps off me? I'm okay now. Really. You want to help me, don’t you?" 

"Yeah," Jack replied mechanically. "You do look better." He reached for the strap around Daniel's neck and unbuckled it. “In fact, you look pretty hot.” Something about what he was doing felt wrong, but he ignored it. _This was Daniel._ He trusted Daniel. He _loved_ Daniel. Jack unfastened the next strap, and the next, then paused to rub his eyes. He was still achingly weary. 

Daniel sat up, working the other straps by himself. "You're still tired, aren't you?" he asked, his voice husky and soft. "You can rest soon, but we need to get out of here. Is it daylight yet?" He ripped the tape off the IV piercing the back of his hand and pulled it out, letting the line dangle on the floor, dripping fluid into a puddle beneath the bed. 

Numbly, Jack raised his left arm and checked his chronometer, struggling to make his eyes focus. He was so tired. So very tired. "Almost. Maybe an hour. Little less." 

Daniel leaped off the bed, pulled out his catheter with a smooth, quick draw and dropped it on the floor without as much as a wince. He hurried over to the shelves he’d been studying earlier. From one of them, he pulled a long dark blue robe and quickly donned it. The hood covered his head, completely hiding his face from view, and the sleeves were long enough that they covered his hands as well. 

He turned to Jack, flipped back the cuff of the robe, and placed a hand on Jack’s cheek. Then his arms swept around Jack’s neck, and Daniel pressed his body against him. "We need to get back to the Stargate before sunrise," he murmured, rubbing himself against the other man. "Can you get me there?"  

Jack moaned and closed his eyes. "We brought motorcycles," He told his friend breathlessly, his cock stiffening, his mind awhirl with desire. "I can get us one, but that's all. Somebody would stop me if I tried for two." 

"Then we'll make do with one," Daniel agreed silkily. He made eye contact, inviting with his gaze. "You want to go with me, don't you, Jack? You don't want me to be alone in this…" He smiled. "…wonderful new world. Do you?" 

"No." Jack couldn’t look away. _This was Daniel, his old friend._ Daniel, who had sacrificed his life to save him, and brought him back to life when he was dead inside. Beautiful, sexy Daniel, who _loved_ him, who _wanted_ him. Jack could feel Daniel’s hard-on forming against his thigh. He inhaled, and closed his eyes. 

_Something smelled good. Jack wanted… Daniel. Wanted him naked. Wanted to_ fuck _him. Or be fucked_ by _him, Jack didn’t care.  
_

He _needed_ that, more than he needed to breathe.  And now Daniel was ready to give it to him, ready to let Jack do whatever he wanted, because Jack _loved_ him. Because he loved Jack, and Jack _wanted_ him. He wasn’t supposed to want Daniel like that, but he did, and it felt beautiful and right, no matter what anyone else said. 

Only… Daniel wasn’t gay. Was he? Jack wasn’t gay, either. He’d never slept with another man, never wanted to; the military didn’t allow it. If he fucked Daniel, he could never go home again— 

_Home._

"No!" Jack snapped, stepping back, shocked awareness hitting him like a solid punch. He shook his head, trying desperately to clear his mind, knowing where the fog was coming from, helpless to fight it. "Don't do this to me, Daniel. _Please."_

"You care about me, don't you, Jack?" Daniel asked seductively, his hand trailing lightly up and down Jack’s sleeve. "You don't want me to die, do you?" 

_"Nobody's_ going to hurt you," Jack told him firmly. His eyes flicked up to the blue ones fixed so firmly on his face. "They'll have to go through _me_ first." 

"I heard the Sing earlier," Daniel murmured, his hand massaging Jack's nape, crowding him, moving him toward the door. "She said they'd give me till sunrise, and then cast me out. You know what the sun will do to me while I'm still sick. It'll _poison_ me, Jack. It'll _kill_ me. That's what they want." 

"No." Jack's breath was shallow. He felt panic surging up inside him. The Sing had already tried to get him to throw Daniel out a couple of times, so this wasn't completely unexpected. These people had no faith in Tau’ri medicine, though they knew the Ferretu intimately. 

_But this was Daniel._

Jack wasn't going to let him die. He couldn’t. He’d kill every last one of the villagers first. Jack shook his head, trying to shake that thought loose. He knew it was wrong, but his need to protect Daniel was incredibly strong, beyond all logic. 

"They're going to kill me, Jack," Daniel pressed more urgently, his expression sad, lost. "You watched Charlie die. Don’t let them do that to me.” 

“I won’t. But we can’t take you back. Not yet. Doctor Fraiser needs more time.” 

“These people aren’t going to give us that, Jack. There are too many of them. They’ll take me away, and you won’t be able to stop them. Janet can still help me, if we go back to the base. If you can get me back to the Stargate, we can go home. I'll be safe there. But you have to help me, because of what we mean to each other _._ I _love_ you, Jack. I want to be _with_ you. I know you want that, too. _"_

"Yes. I want you, Daniel. Wanna touch you…" He surged forward, covering Daniel’s mouth with his own, kissing him without restraint, heedless of bruising those soft, chilly lips, desire flashing through him like zat fire. 

Daniel pushed him back, gently, carefully, breathing hard. “We don’t have much time, Jack,” he whispered desperately, his hand stroking Jack’s face lovingly. “We need to go now, and I promise, as soon as we’re home, I’ll make love to you 'til neither of us can stand up. Let’s go home, so I can take you to bed.” His voice was gentle, soft, urgent. 

"Yes," Jack promised. “Home.” A thrill of joy skittered up his spine. “Wanna fuck you,” he growled, reaching down to swipe his hand roughly over Daniel’s half hard cock. His heart skipped a beat. It thundered in his ears. This was terribly wrong and some part of him knew it, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Then he turned and led the way out of the storeroom. 

Jack headed down the corridor and took the first left, striding toward the great hall, entering the big room by a little-used side entrance. Daniel hung back, letting him get the lay of the land. 

No one had seen Jack come into the hall. Carter still lay zonked out on the cot where Jack had left her, while Fraiser, Tanner and Siler had their heads bent over diagnostic machines, each intent on the tasks at hand. Ordinarily, Jack would have had Siler on watch while the others did medical stuff, but with the loss of their nurse, Siler had been drafted to monitor machines and do some of the grunt work while Janet or the med tech supervised or gave oral instructions. Now Jack was glad no one was watching the front door. That left the way clear for him to get Daniel out of there. 

Stealthily, Jack glanced around the room, angling toward the nearby foyer. Jack directed his hooded companion quickly from the side entrance into the foyer with the hand signals they used for silent running. 

Jack slipped in right behind him, closing the door silently in his wake and loosing a pent-up breath in relief that they hadn’t been spotted. Checking his watch, Jack realized that Teal’c would be returning to his post right about then, and when he didn’t find Jack on watch outside the door, he’d look inside the temple storeroom and find both of them gone. The alarm would be raised by radio. 

Right on cue, his comm unit came alive.  “DanielJackson has escaped! I believe ColonelO’Neill may be aiding him.” 

Daniel flung open the doors to outside while Jack backed a motorcycle out into the courtyard. Hands shaking, he poked the key into the ignition and started it up while Daniel closed the big, heavy double doors. Jack ripped off his radio and flung it toward the building, knowing the chatter would distract him, and he needed to concentrate on their escape. 

Daniel leaped on behind him an instant before Jack gunned the engine and raced away from the hall. Instinctively, he drove the bike in an erratic path, making a hard target of them as they headed for the main gate in the blue of coming dawn. 

Bullets started kicking up dirt around them. A flash of bright fire hitting the ground just in front of him told Jack that Teal’c had arrived at the doorway of the main hall. He drove through the cloud of dust with his eyes closed, holding his breath until they had cleared it. For a moment, he expected to hear the roar of other motorcycles in pursuit of them, until he remembered he had collected all the keys when they arrived, for safekeeping. 

Then he remembered the villagers’ caution about going outside in the dark. He glanced around nervously, looking for shadows out of place or hooded figures lurking beside buildings, but nothing jumped out at them or scuttled out of their path. The other Ferretu had already gone to seek shelter from the coming sun, leaving their way clear, their progress unhindered. 

Once they arrived at the village entrance, both men unscrewed the lock on the massive gate, but Jack had to push the heavy silver barrier open by himself, because Daniel couldn’t touch it. 

When the gap was wide enough, Jack mounted the bike with Daniel up behind him again and drove away as the sky began to lighten, heading toward the Stargate, and home. Daniel’s hands were busy all through the ride, wandering over Jack’s chest and belly, stroking down the length of his cock through his pants. 

Jack struggled to keep his mind focused on driving the motorcycle, on following the churned up path back to the Stargate, but all he could think about was sex. _Kissing. Touching. Being naked. With Daniel._ And his body agreed. He looked down at himself, at the hard-on beneath Daniel’s sensual, hungry touch. 

When they arrived at the Stargate, Jack dismounted in a hurry, stumbling backward, desperately struggling to keep his wits about him. _He wasn’t supposed to be going home._ Not yet. Was he?

 "It's all right," Daniel purred. He stole closer, slipping his arms around Jack's waist. "I love you, Jack.  I have for a long, long time." He nuzzled Jack's neck, and placed a kiss there. “Soon we’ll be one flesh; one soul.” Jack's eyes rolled closed. "Oh, God," he breathed, and held on. He wanted that, wanted it more than he wanted to live. He felt Daniel's mouth, cold and clammy, the scrape of blunt teeth, the suction as he drew harder on his skin. It made his knees weak, made him want to— He grabbed Daniel's short hair with both hands and hauled his head back. Looking down into those eyes, he saw how intoxicated the other man was. It set Jack on fire, and he couldn't fight it any longer. He pushed Daniel down on the ground and covered him with his body, thrusting himself roughly against Daniel's belly. There wasn't time for anything else, and with a gasp of horrified ecstasy, he came in his clothes.   

"Yesssss," Daniel hissed. "It's so beautiful, Jack. We'll be together, always. I can't help you right now, but I will soon. When I’ve finished changing, I'll change you, too. You’ll _like_ how this feels. We’ll be closer than you’ve ever dreamed. We’ll be inside each other, forever. We’ll be lovers, Jack. You and me, for always." 

"Yes," Jack panted, pushing himself up onto his hands.  "Just don't leave me, Daniel." He scrambled to his feet, helping Daniel up afterward. 

"I’ll _never_ leave you, Jack," he promised in a sexy whisper. "But I have to get through the Stargate. There isn't much time. We can go to any number of planets, and as soon as we’ve finished changing, we’ll give the gift to others. We don’t need to go back to Earth at all. There are so many places we could start, but I thought Tuplo’s planet would be the best place to start.”  He grinned, his eyes sparkling with cunning and determination. “After all, the Stargate is in the Land of Darkness, which would be a perfect place for us to flourish. No sunlight, ever, and lots of travelers coming back and forth from the Stargate to the Land of Light. Will you dial it for us?" 

Jack had been so close to losing Daniel. _He had to stop Daniel._ Had to get him home. _Couldn’t let him go through the ‘gate—_

"No," he snapped, and pushed Daniel away. He put his hands to his head, trying to think, to clear his mind. This wasn't right. It was all wrong. _He shouldn't be helping Daniel get away!_ This was dangerous, but he just couldn’t grasp why. Reason was just out of reach, tantalizing him with something he needed desperately and couldn’t quite touch. 

The mesmerizing pull drew him back, one step closer. Jack’s mind was reeling, screaming with fear and revulsion, but those hypnotic eyes, that purring voice commanded and he obeyed, powerless to fight it. 

He nodded, tears forming in his eyes. "I want to help you, Daniel. But I’m not sure I can… _go there_ with you. I’m scared. I’ve never been so scared of anything." His voice cracked on the last word, and a tear rolled down his face. “I don’t wanna be… one of those things. Please, don’t do that to me. Not if you really love me.” 

Daniel’s hands fondled Jack’s shoulders and chest. "Let’s go to our new home, Jack. We’ll talk about it there." 

Jack's hand stroked Daniel's face. "Gimme a minute," he gasped. His heart was breaking, and he didn't understand why. He staggered over to the DHD, wiping his eyes as he walked. The odor of garlic was pungent as he stomped the plants down to reach the keys, and he felt his head clearing as he breathed in the strong scent. It hurt, like a hangover, and made it hard to think. 

He pressed the first key, then another and another. With each successive entry, the sound of the chevrons engaging clicked him closer to something important, just out of reach. Pressing the last key, he looked up to see Daniel standing to one side of the ‘gate, fifteen feet away from him, waiting for the sideways flush. 

_Garlic,_ Jack remembered, breathing deeply. 

_Vampires.  
_

_Daniel!  
_

_Oh, God. What the hell have I done?_

He reached for his sidearm as the enormous watery _kawoosh_ blossomed outward. In one smooth motion, he aimed and thumbed off the safety. Heat flashed through Jack’s body, burning away all doubt, roasting his heart inside him. This was not going to end well, and he knew it. 

"Daniel," he growled. "Step away from the 'gate." 

His friend didn't seem to hear him. He was staring at the event horizon, now settling into place, a beatific smile on his face. "Freedom," he murmured joyously. “Soon, I will return to bring all my brothers and sisters with me to a new world. To a hundred new worlds.” 

"You're not completely vamped yet," Jack reminded him. Agony seared his insides, but he had no choice in what had to be done. That monster could not be allowed to go through the gate. "And if I pull this trigger, I'll be putting a bullet into your brain. It'll kill you, Daniel. _Step away from the fucking 'gate."_

Slowly, Daniel turned to face him, his expression revealed in the gray light of dawn beneath the shadowy hood. For a moment he looked predatory, filled with utter madness touched with evil glee, not at all the Daniel he knew. Then the alien expression slipped and he seemed lost, confused. He stumbled a little, backward… toward the Stargate. 

“Don’t!” Jack ordered. He couldn’t let Daniel pass. He couldn’t let that _thing_ go to the Land of Light and spread the infection there. Jack corrected his aim and squeezed the trigger as another tear rolled down his cheek. 

Daniel pitched backward from the impact, dropped to the ground and lay still. 

_"Noooooooo!"_ Jack cried, flinging his pistol to the ground and dashing out from behind the DHD. He tore across the churned-up moss to Daniel's side, pulling the limp body into his arms. His hands shook wildly as they smoothed over Daniel's face, pushing the short fringe of his bangs out of the way. 

There was blood, lots of it, matting down his brown hair. It trickled across his forehead and down into his eyes. And his skin was on fire. 

The fever had returned, his body's final effort to burn the sickness out of him. Jack examined the bloody wound and groaned with relief that it was only a shallow trough in Daniel's scalp. He must have already been falling when the bullet grazed him. Jack hadn’t blown his brains out, after all, and he whimpered with relief. 

"Jesus," Jack sobbed, rocking the limp form in his arms, cuddling him close to his chest, Daniel’s face tucked beneath his chin, warm gore decorating his throat. "Oh, God, Charlie… " 

_Memories of his son's dying body in his arms, just like this, flooded into his mind. The scent of blood was pungent enough he could taste it. Just like before... His gun. All that red. Charlie…_

Blinking to clear his vision, he studied that face, trying to focus on the real and push the memories aside. "Daniel! I almost killed you! Jesus." 

"Jack …" Daniel's eyes opened, glassy and fever-bright, his voice whispery and faint. "You missed. Try again. Please. _Please."_

That terrible entreaty wrenched Jack's heart inside him. Tears fell onto Daniel's face, mixing in with the gore streaming across his forehead. "I can't. I can't kill you. I love you." He held that face in his hands and rocked the man like he was an injured child. “I _love_ you.” 

"I know," Daniel sobbed. His eyes slid closed. "Help me die, Jack. I can feel how close I am, what I’m doing to you. Stop me, please. I'm losing…" He wept softly, his breathing slowing until it was deep and even, his face relaxed into unconsciousness.  

The powerful vampire-fog was gone, and Jack's mind was his own again. "I'm _not_ gonna let you die, goddamn it," Jack rasped, rage flaring up inside him again, filling him with determination. "And I'm not gonna kill you, either. You've just got to fucking _beat_ this thing _,_ Daniel Jackson! That's an _order_ , you hear me?" 

After applying pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding, Jack scooped the unconscious man up in a fireman’s carry, stumbling toward the motorcycle. It took a minute or two to figure out how to carry a completely limp, unconscious man on the bike without getting them both killed.  He ended up with Daniel facing him, straddling his lap, head lolling on his shoulder, arms dangling at his sides, legs draped over Jack's thighs. He held onto Daniel with one arm and drove with the other, recanting his earlier opinion of the bike with its slush box transmission. He’d thought it was pretty girlie for a motorcycle, but now he was thankful that he didn’t have gears to shift, or he’d never have been able to get Daniel back to the village. 

Full daylight had risen when he returned to town. Ignoring the black looks from the villagers who had obviously figured out he’d left the gate open, he roared up to the great hall and rode the bike inside. There would be hell to pay for his risky behavior and lack of judgment, but the important thing was getting Daniel back under Janet Fraiser's care. That was done in a heartbeat, with Daniel strapped to his bed in record time, the scalp wound cleaned, stitched and treated. 

Jack washed himself up and put on a fresh uniform, not only because he’d been wearing Daniel’s infected blood, but also because he couldn’t stand the smell of the evidence of his sexual encounter with Daniel. 

When all was relatively normal again, he sat down with his people and told them an edited version of what had happened. They’d need to know how close he’d come to betraying them all. They needed to understand how very much danger they were all in, because of the persuasive power of the alien disease. No one was immune to it, especially as weary as all of them were. 

But there were a few details he left out. Some of the things that had happened were between himself and Daniel, and nobody else needed to know. He didn’t want to think about that, but it ate away at him as he paced and waited for Doctor Fraiser’s report on Daniel’s condition. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about that motorcycle ride, how Daniel’s hands had felt on him, how Daniel’s body had felt beneath his, and the offer that had been made. Or how willing he’d been to accept it. He was seeing everything differently now, and not in a way that he could handle. 

Duty came first, though. Eventually he had to get his people home, had to give Fraiser a chance to find a cure. And when they were back on the base – with Daniel or without him – he would take some time by himself to sort things out, and if they went the wrong direction, well, then Jack O’Neill wouldn’t be coming back from his vacation.

* * *

 ** _16 Hours_**

Janet Fraiser shook her head. "The sun exposure resulted in increased toxicity in Daniel’s system, but I’m treating that. Hopefully, it’ll help slow the progress of the disease, but I have to tell you, Colonel. We aren’t getting anywhere with our research. His kidneys will shut down soon and when that happens…” 

“You didn’t get anything from Count Dracula?” Jack sat with his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table between himself and the two women. 

“Oh, I got plenty of interesting data,” she returned with a trace of irritation. "That insensitivity to pain is absolute, except from certain sources. The reaction to those substances is immediate and excruciating.” 

“Garlic. Silver. UV radiation.” Sam’s eyes closed and her head nodded forward with exhaustion as she spoke. She jerked upright again and forced her eyes open. 

“Vampire kryptonite,” Jack returned. “But we already knew that.” 

 “They are completely unable to digest solid food,” Janet went on flatly. “They get nutrients from direct absorption of the blood they’ve ingested, regardless of type or cross-match. I don’t have the equipment here to do complete testing, but I’m fairly certain an MRI would detect higher brain function, particularly in areas of sensory interpretation.” 

“Enhanced sight, hearing, smell…” Sam’s head dipped again as she interpreted for the Colonel, her mind on auto-pilot. "And way smarter than us." 

“The body temperature lowers significantly, which helps conserve resources, allowing the Ferretu to go for long periods without eating, if necessary. When injuries occur, the disease cells seem to collect at the injury site to effect repairs, rather than straining the host’s resources. It’s an amazing organism, Colonel. A multi-cellular organism living within a multi-cellular organism, overriding the host’s ability to control the body and mind, much like a Goa’uld symbiote broken down into cellular units that control the entire being on a microscopic level.” 

“Can we kill it?” 

Janet sighed. “Without killing the host? Nothing I’ve tried yet seems to put a dent in it, and the body’s autoimmune systems don’t seem to recognize it at all. Like it’s not even there.” She rubbed her eyes. “Daniel’s about eighty percent gone, Colonel. He’s even got the rudimentary fangs forming in the roof of his mouth.” She sipped her coffee. “Presuming we can beat this disease, he’ll eventually need reconstructive oral surgery to remove them. I can’t imagine he’d want to leave them there.” 

Carter lifted her head, trying to make her eyes focus. “Colonel, there are other things to consider here.” She yawned. “I did a quick census and calculated an approximate number for the Ferretu.” Her eyes went wide, and she blinked several times, then shook her head to try to wake up a little more. “There are less than a thousand villagers left. If the Ferretu are even a third of that number, there’s not enough of either for this culture to survive. They’ll kill each other off in a matter of months.” 

“Which may be the reason why the Ferretu infected DanielJackson,” Teal’c chimed in. “So that they could continue to survive on another world.” He eyed the doctor. “Did you not also determine that the disease renders the Ferretu incapable of breeding?” 

“Yes. Once the disease has reached its final stage, they become sterile, Teal’c. The only way to add to their numbers is by direct contact with diseased blood.” 

“And the only way for these _people_ to survive is if the vampires stop killin’ ‘em.” Jack got up and started pacing. “Meanwhile, we got squat, and Daniel is dying.” 

“Colonel O’Neill,” called the Sing from the doorway. “We have captured my granddaughter, attempting to free her Ferretu lover. She is being held in the temple.” 

Jack glanced at her, then hurried out of the great hall after the departing elder. Everyone else came, too, following them into the big open room where a small group of townsfolk clustered around the altar. They could see the priestess standing up there, but it wasn’t until they pushed to the front of the crowd that they saw Rawnie on her knees, hands bound behind her back, face flushed with rage. 

“Burn her!” someone in the crowd called. “Traitor! She has endangered us all.” 

“Now, just hold on a minute,” Jack mouthed back. “We don’t know for _sure_ it was her that opened the door. It’s just _probably_ her. And I’m curious as hell to know _why_ she did it.” 

“Because the Ferretu are superior to us!” Rawnie snarled. “We should all give ourselves up to the gift they offer. They are immortal. They are wise--”  

“They’re not even _human_ anymore,” Janet snapped. “They have no sense of humanity or compassion. They don’t feel _love_ , Rawnie. They can’t. Not anymore. Is _that_ the kind of life you want?” 

The girl burst into tears, shaking her head in denial. “Mihnea _loves_ me! If I join him, he will love me forever, as I love him.” 

“No, he doesn’t,” Janet argued gently. “He just manipulated you, knowing he could use you to get into the village. They didn’t convert anyone but _Daniel_ , Rawnie. They just fed on your people and killed them.” 

“And you helped ‘em do it,” Jack added, voice raspy with anger, remembering the nurse's body they had discovered not long ago. “You _murdered_ your own people. And one of mine.” 

“You killed my wife!” accused a man standing nearby, eyes red-rimmed with grief. “And my son. He was only a child.” 

Realization settled into the young woman’s expression, and she hung her head in shame. Soft sobs shook her shoulders. “For that, I am truly sorry,” she sniffed. “Mihnea said they would give us all the gift.” 

“And he _lied_.” Jack stared hard at her. “Hard way to learn a lesson.” 

“Send her to the Ferretu,” the Sing said quietly, her voice strong with conviction, but her eyes filled with grief. “Put her outside the city gate and do not allow her to return indoors at sunset. She wished to be with them. Let her be food or a convert, whichever they choose.” She shook her head. “And they are _very_ hungry, child.” 

The priestess helped Rawnie to her feet and escorted the pale, shocked young woman out of the temple. The crowd dispersed quickly, each returning to their homes and the shambles of their lives. Only the Sing remained. 

Lifting her head, the old woman eyed the strangers. “Long ago, the Sing who was my grandfather managed to cure a young woman in our village. She was his wife, my grandmother.” 

Jack felt as if he’d been punched in the gut with that announcement. The old lady should have told them that up front, and the fact that she’d kept this important secret suddenly made her motives suspect, too. Before he could speak, Doctor Fraiser stepped up and caught the Sing’s eye. 

“And how, exactly, did he do that?” Janet demanded, interested, hopeful. 

The Sing looked at her. “No one knows. He died before he could pass on the secret to his apprentice, my father. Many have tried to repeat his success, but none have succeeded. We believed it was a miracle, which is why we did not mention it to you.” 

“So why are you telling us now?” Jack demanded. 

She sighed. “When you first arrived, we discovered quickly that you were unbelievers, and someone was sent to cover the faces of the goddess. The miracle of my grandmother’s cure was also not for the ears of strangers, because we believed it was delivered from the goddess herself.” 

Her eyes were pleading as she gazed up at Jack, her lined face heavy with grief. “Now I have no apprentice to follow me, no one to learn enough in what little time I have left. We have no choice now but to trust you, those we have wronged by our silence, and to hope that you may still find a way to lift this curse from us.” 

She swallowed hard, tears filling her eyes. “I do not do this for your friend, Colonel. I wish I were that generous, but I am not. I do this for the sake of my people, for you and your friends are now our only hope. I am sorry, but I believed I was doing the right thing.” 

She shook her head as she bowed it, her tears running in rivulets down her cheeks. “Now, I no longer know what is right and good.” 

Jack knew she was being abjectly honest, humbling herself before them. He was touched by it, and forgave her. He patted her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he assured her gently. “Just tell us everything you know about your grandmother’s cure.” 

“This is great news!” Sam agreed, her blue eyes gleaming with hope as she smiled. “If someone else can do it, maybe we can, too.” 

“I believe, from what my father told me, that he took her to the goddess herself. Only she can help us now.” 

The Sing walked slowly to the statues behind the altar, bowed to them, and then pulled the veils off their heads. She knelt in obeisance. “Great Hecate, help us now in this hour of our greatest need. Please forgive my sin of revealing your faces to those who do not believe in your power, but I do so only because we will not last long without a miracle from your compassionate heart. Please let them be the tools that save your people.” 

“Holy Hannah!” gasped Carter in horrified surprise, staring at the idols. 

“Yep. That’s herself, all right,” Jack agreed, eyeing the face of the center statue. The clothing and hairstyle might be Greek instead of Indian, but there was no mistaking Nirrti’s face. 

“Now, why am I not surprised?” Janet mused aloud. 

Jack walked up to the Sing, held out his hand to her, and helped her to her feet. “Okay, ma’am, your goddess is a Goold. The name we know her by is Nirrti, and she’s big into making human beings into guinea pigs. Odds are, she was performing experiments on your people, and this disease is the result.” 

“She probably found too many flaws in the design, and just gave up and moved on, leaving these people to try to survive against the mistakes she left behind. She’s done that before.” Sam moved up closer to the statues. One was an old woman, one in the bloom of womanhood, the other a young girl; all differently aged versions of the same person, all Nirrti. 

“There’s got to be a lab around here somewhere, then,” Jack stated firmly, turning around to study the walls, looking for anything familiar. “The Goold are damn litterbugs.”  

The Sing turned to faced them, devastation in her eyes. “Our goddess, Hecate, is one of these creatures with whom you do battle on other worlds? These Goold?” 

“Yeah. She’s not a goddess any more than I am,” Sam assured her with a frown of distaste. 

Considering, the old woman cocked her head and glanced from the statues to the strangers in their midst. She nodded, resigned to the truth they offered. Then she turned to the priestess now standing back at the altar. “Kerla,” the Sing called. “Roll back the carpet.” 

The priestess bowed her head and the SG team stepped off the rug where they stood, helping the priestess push it back. The polished stone floor was painted with a pentagram encompassed in a circle in the middle of the floor. Greek writing was inscribed all along the rim.  

“Stand inside the circle,” the Sing ordered quietly. She moved into the middle of the design and when the others had gathered, she pulled her shawl closer about her. Drawing her sleeve back, she revealed a broad silver cuff set with an enormous moonstone cabochon. She pressed the jewel and instantly transport rings appeared around them, whisking them all away in a beam of light. 

They found themselves standing in a windowless chamber, probably underground, with lights that came on automatically as the rings vanished. 

“Bingo,” said Jack. 

“Maybe now we’ll find a way to undo what Nirrti did,” Sam offered hopefully, heading for one of the machines humming quietly near the wall. 

“Let’s get started, people,” Janet agreed. “We’re short on time, and Daniel’s life is on the line.” 

Jack stood in one corner, his back to the wall, watching the others work. Teal’c provided translations of whatever Goa’uld writing they found. After pushing a few buttons, Sam managed to call up a holographic display of the disease that illustrated its progress in the body. Another hologram showed the alien cells being touched by tiny silvery globules in the bloodstream that turned the virus black and killed it. 

Just watching that brought an enormous sense of relief to Jack, because he could see the cure with his own eyes. The only problem was that it was a theory illustrated with light, and they needed the real thing. A little more digging, and Sam found a small pod of stasis chambers, each containing a vial of something that looked like liquid mercury. Two of the vials were missing. 

“Is that it?” Jack asked hopefully. 

“Indeed,” Teal’c assured him. “From the information in the research files, those who assisted Nirrti in her research understood what she was planning and secretly worked on a cure for the disease. Since it was never implemented, we can assume that Nirrti either took the scientists with her when she left this world, or had them killed. The cure has been here all along, waiting to be discovered.” 

The Sing shook her head, her voice trembling with grief. “My grandfather found it, and with it, saved my grandmother’s life. When he rushed out to try to save another of the Ferretu in his excitement, he was killed and the secret died with him.” 

Kerla embraced her mother. 

“We could have saved so many,” the Sing sniffed, rocking in her daughter’s sympathetic embrace. 

“Well, with some luck, maybe we can save them all,” Janet told her, reaching for one of the vials. She looked over at Jack. “Sir, since it’s daylight now, I’d like to send Sergeant Siler back to the base with a few of these, so we can break down the formula and try to replicate it. Meanwhile, we have a patient upstairs who needs a dose of this right away. If it works on Daniel, maybe it’ll work on Mihnea, too.” 

“Sounds like a plan to me, Doc,” Jack agreed. “And once we’re sure this stuff works, I think it’ll be safe to bring the troops in to start rounding up all the vamps so we can give ‘em their shots. Things may get a little bloody for a while, maybe pretty scary, but I think we’re finally waking up from the nightmare. And it’s about damn time.” 

“Here, here,” Janet cheered, holding up one of the vials as if lifting it in a toast. “Now let’s see if there are any instructions on dosages in these files. Teal’c, if you please…” 

“Of course, DoctorFraiser,” he intoned, stepping back up to the console and reading the screen aloud to her. 

After a few more minutes, the group ringed back up to the temple. Carter and Teal’c took the extra vials to the main hall to collect Siler and Tanner and start gathering up their equipment for a return trip to the base. 

Jack walked Janet out of the temple, but she didn’t turn toward the storeroom door. Stopping for a moment, she caught his attention with a weary sigh. 

“This is going to take a while,” Janet advised. “Why don’t you go take a nap, sir?” 

Jack shook his head. “Not budging from Daniel’s bedside,” he assured her. “I _have_ to be there for this. You know that.” 

Janet sighed and nodded. She looked utterly exhausted, dead on her feet. “Colonel, I’m going to need to make medical observations during this process, for the benefit of the other patients who may follow, if we’re successful here. I’m very interested in how Daniel’s body will react when the medication starts working on his brain.” Her expression turned suddenly grim. “That could get a bit dicey. I’ll need to be more alert than I am now for that We’re all asleep on our feet, here, and I wouldn’t ordinarily do this, but in this case, I don’t believe we have much of a choice.” 

She eyed him, her head cocked. “I brought along a small supply of stimulants, in case they were needed. I’m going to take some until we get another doctor from the base to take over here for me. The disease didn’t change Daniel right away, and the cure may take as long to run its course. I should have backup before it’s done, but I can’t risk falling asleep during this most critical stage. Are you all right with that, Colonel?” 

Lifting his eyebrows, Jack asked lightly, “Wanna share the party favors?” 

With a small chuckle, Janet shook her head. “No, sir, Colonel. Not medically necessary for you. If you fall asleep on watch, I’m not waking you up. I, however, will be taking a small dose in the best interest of my patient, until relief arrives. With your permission, as my C.O., of course.” 

“Go for it,” he suggested. “We need you sharp for Daniel.” She headed down the corridor to the great hall to self-medicate. 

Jack waited outside the temple storeroom for Janet to return. Applying their nose plugs, they stepped inside. Jack looked down at Daniel and instantly recognized that the disease was in control. 

Daniel was smiling, triumph in his alien eyes. 

“You’re too late, Jack,” he said with a low, husky laugh. “In a handful of hours the transformation will be complete. But you can still come with me.” He glanced at Janet, standing at the counter with her medical supplies all laid out beside a small vial of silver liquid. 

“No, thanks, Batman,” Jack told him confidently. “See that little bottle in the doc’s hands? The one that looks like it’s filled with mercury? _That’s_ Daniel’s cure. You, on the other hand, are gonna die, you soulless bastard, so we can have Daniel back. _Sayonara_ , sucker!” He waggled his fingers at the creature in a humorless little good-bye wave. 

Instantly, the thing blanched, shock and fear illustrated in its familiar features. It started to struggle, to pull and tug against the restraints. It stilled as Janet approached, the medication filling three syringes. 

“Don’t _do_ that!” it urged quietly. When its order was disobeyed, it shouted at her, cursing her with every foul epithet Daniel Jackson knew, which were plenty. 

It struggled anew, fiercely thrashing against its bonds, trying to escape the threat of that medication, then trying to dislodge the IV port plugged into the back of its hand, but its efforts were futile. 

Jack watched with a sense of satisfaction, ignoring the creature’s pleas and curses, gloating inwardly as the silvery liquid traveled slowly into the IV port. As the medication poured into the vein and along his arm, Jack saw Daniel’s skin turn black and then fade to its normal golden hue, visibly tracking the medication’s slow progress through his body. 

Jack listened to the howls of pain and horror, knowing that was not his friend crying out, but the death of the disease as it fought to survive in Daniel’s body. Jack _wanted_ it to die. He wanted to _watch_ it die. 

He steeled himself to observe as the terrible cure worked its way through his friend’s body and set him free. It wasn’t easy to watch, but he owed Daniel this. He would stand by his side and be there when Daniel needed him most, because that was what friends did for each other. 

Swallowing down his heart, Jack moved to Daniel’s bedside and put his hand on his friend’s forearm, studying Daniel’s tortured face as he screamed and wept and cursed, his body thrashing against the restraints as the medication did its work. Daniel’s voice begged for Jack to kill him, tearing Jack’s heart out by the roots. With all the terrible, unspeakable things Jack had seen in his long military career, this was by far the worst sort of torture imaginable. The cure was _every bit_ as terrible as the disease itself. 

He leaned over and stroked Daniel’s sweaty hair and face, murmuring quietly to him, offering him hope and reassurance that it would all be over soon. Jack didn’t even notice when his own tears began to fall and didn’t try to stop them when they did register. He glanced up at Fraiser and saw that she was crying, too; wiping at her eyes as she tried to make notes on a chart. 

That shook Jack even more, and as he turned his troubled gaze back to his friend, he thought seriously about ending Daniel’s pain, because he couldn’t take much more of it himself. 

Janet put her hand on his shoulder and drew his gaze back to her face. “Be strong for him, sir,” she advised quietly, as if reading his mind. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but he needs you to help him hold on.” 

“Jack!” Daniel cried. His body tensed. His face flushed bright red, then darkened to black, like a shadow of death spreading over him. 

Suddenly he lay still, quietly sobbing, tears streaming across his temples. He looked up at the ceiling and blinked, his eyes widening and dilating, and then he made no sound at all. Daniel wasn’t moving now, not even to breathe or close his eyes. 

“Is it over?” asked Jack hopefully. 

Leaning over Daniel, flashing her penlight into his eyes, Janet didn’t answer. She put her stethoscope into her ears and checked Daniel’s heartbeat. Then she looked up at Jack with a fierce gleam in her eyes. “He’s in V-fib,” she announced.  “Open the door and help me get this bed to the great hall. We need the crash cart and the generator’s in there.” 

Cold fear gripped Jack’s guts. He bolted toward the door, flinging it open and grabbing the head end of the bed, pulling it out of the storeroom and into the hall in a single powerful yank, and then he and Janet wheeled the bed down the wide corridor at a dead run, heading for the machines that might save Daniel’s life, since the cure seemed to have killed him. 

He stood helplessly by while Janet worked on Daniel, shocking his heart back into action once, twice, finally five times before she got results. 

When Daniel whispered Jack’s name, he was instantly at his bedside, clasping his hand, bending over his face so Daniel could see him. 

“Right here, Danny,” Jack whispered, stroking his hair. “You’re gonna be okay. Doc Fraiser fixed you up.” 

Daniel looked at him for a moment, trying to focus on his face, and then he started to cry. “Oh, Jack,” he sobbed softly. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.” 

Janet rubbed Jack’s back, drawing his attention to her. “He’s just exhausted,” she explained. “He’s not thinking too clearly right now, and he’s been through a lot. Give him some time.” 

She stepped away to draw up a syringe of clear medication from her own supplies. “I’m going to give him a sedative now to help him rest, then get started on some testing to verify the effects of the medication in Daniel’s system. Meanwhile, I’m ordering you to get some rest yourself, Colonel. You can put your cot right next to him, if you want, and I’ll wake you if you’re needed. All right?” 

With a weary sigh, Jack watched her inject the sedative, then looked back at Daniel’s distraught face, meeting and holding his gaze until Daniel’s eyes finally slid shut and his death grip on Jack’s hand relaxed. 

Jack took in the bloody trough in Daniel’s hair where Jack’s bullet had so narrowly missed killing him. Then he turned away, fetched an empty cot and brought it over to place beside Daniel’s bed. He lay down on the cot for a little rest, wondering how long it would be until they’d be able to release the restraints and take Daniel home. 

It took him a few minutes to find his way to sleep, even as exhausted as he was, because the echoes of Daniel’s screams and the images of their near-escape and his recovery continued to eat away at Jack.  He knew this nightmare would haunt them all for a very, very long time.  

He and Daniel, most of all. 

* * *

 

**_28 Hours Later_ **

**_SGC Infirmary_**

“How ya feelin’?” Sam asked brightly as she pulled up a stool beside Daniel’s usual bed in the base infirmary. Teal’c stood just behind her, a faint, satisfied smile on his face. 

Daniel opened his eyes and rolled his head on the pillow to regard them in all their blurry glory. “Not so good,” he croaked. He was nauseated and weak. Every muscle in his body ached as if he’d seriously over-exercised, and Janet had told him his hormones were still wildly out of whack, making him an emotional wreck. His eyes filled with tears, and he blinked them away. “Where’s Jack?” 

Carter shot a guilty glance over her shoulder. “Uh, he went to his cabin for a few days. General Hammond insisted we all have some time off to rest after our _Twilight Zone_ ordeal.” She grinned. “We all crashed for about twenty-four hours straight, once we got back to the base. Didn’t make our first debriefing till this morning.” 

“How was he?” Daniel asked. “His mood. Did he seem… all right?” 

Sam shrugged. “He seemed like… the Colonel.” 

Daniel eyed the Jaffa. “Did he ask you to go fishing with him, Teal’c?” 

“He did not.” 

Frowning, the Major added, “Yeah, come to think of it, he didn’t ask me, either.” 

A lump formed in Daniel’s throat. He tried to smile. “Tell Doctor Fraiser I’m checking myself out of the infirmary. Teal’c, can you draw me a map with directions to his cabin?” 

“I can, but you should wait until DoctorFraiser releases you, DanielJackson. You are still very ill.” 

“This can’t wait,” he assured them, flipping back the covers. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table and jammed them on his face.  He pulled off the tape and then withdrew the needle from his vein, grimacing at the pain, then taped the assembly to the IV pole, hoping gravity would keep the liquid from pouring out all over the place.  

“You want us to go with you?” Sam looked distinctly worried now. She reached over and shut off the flow of ringer’s solution, then turned her gaze back to her teammate’s face. 

“No. This is between Jack and me.” Daniel swung his pajama-clad legs over the side of the bed, tried to stand, and immediately almost fell. He sat with his bare feet on the cold floor for a moment, his butt resting against the side of the bed, trying not to throw up. His head was spinning, his emotions on a roller coaster ride. 

“Doctor Jackson! Get back into that bed,” came an order from the doorway. “You can’t get up yet.” 

“I’m finding that out,” he whimpered, raising his eyes to the doctor as she entered the room. “But I have to go, Janet. I need to talk to Jack.” 

“Whatever the problem is, it’ll wait a few days,” she assured him, coming to stand by the bed and manhandle him back onto it, with Teal’c’s able assistance. “You need to rest at least another day. Two would be better. And you need fluids and some pretty heavy medication until your body straightens itself out. We may have beaten the disease, but the damage it did to you was severe, and you need time to heal before you go gallivanting off anywhere.” 

“But I swear, this is important!” Daniel protested as the covers were pulled up over him again. He looked at Sam for understanding, and saw sympathy in her eyes. “You all know what I did to you, how I manipulated you.” Tears obscured his vision as he glanced at Teal’c. He pushed up his glasses and impatiently wiped the tears away with the fingers of both hands before dabbing his nose on the sleeve of his pajamas. 

The Jaffa lowered his eyes. Sam and Janet both looked away, obviously still troubled by the guilt they felt, though the fault wasn’t their own. 

“It was _worse_ with Jack,” he explained in a broken voice. “I hurt him in ways you can’t imagine, because I knew exactly which buttons to push. I made him bleed. I shattered the trust between us.” 

He swallowed a sob as his heart wrenched painfully in his chest. “I _have_ to go to him. We have to talk. I—“ 

He wiped at his eyes with the edge of his blanket, struggling to get a grip on his emotions, realizing how pitiful he looked and sounded. “I pulled him back from the brink on our first mission to Abydos. This time… I may have pushed him _over_ it. I have to go.” 

“We’ll go,” Sam offered, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Teal’c and I will make sure he’s okay until you’re able to—“ 

“No.” Daniel sat up. “It has to be _me._ You don’t understand, and I can’t explain any better than that. Jack and I have to talk.” 

“He just left the base a few hours ago, Daniel,” Janet told him, trying to press him down into the bed again. “He hasn’t even had time to get there yet.” 

Daniel struggled against her, his face reddening with effort as he fought to sit upright. “I _have to go._ Either you help me get there, or I go by myself, but I have to go, and _right now._ Before he has time to think about… what I did to him.” 

“Then we will help you, DanielJackson,” Teal’c intoned warmly. “We will accompany you to O’Neill’s cabin—“ 

“Only if you just drop me off and go,” Daniel corrected, throwing back the covers. “This is between him and me.” He broke into tears and covered his face for a moment. 

“You don’t understand the power I have over him. The rest of you felt a little of it, but Jack and I have so much history together. I’m sure you’ve read the reports about the first mission, but you have no idea the depth of the connection we shared because of what we went through there.” 

He raised grief-stricken, horrified eyes to theirs, his voice shaking as he added, “That thing in my body… it _violated_ Jack through that bond. It was _way_ worse for him than the rest of you. It made our friendship a weapon.” 

Daniel was shaking, a huddled, pitiful mass of guilt and pain. “I have to go. Just him and me. I’m the only one who can put this right, but I have to get there in time.” 

Sam and Janet exchanged a worried glance. 

Doctor Fraiser picked up the IV assembly he had discarded off the floor and dropped it into the sharps bin. “Daniel, you didn’t know what you were doing—“ 

He rounded on her, his heart as filled with fire as his eyes were flooded with tears. “I damn sure _did_ ,” he snarled. “I pushed all the right buttons with every one of you. I know your weaknesses, and played on them. None of you should forgive me for that. _Ever.”_

“You were sick,” Carter reminded him. “The disease made you do that. We don’t blame you.” 

Janet laid a hand on his cheek and turned his head to make eye contact. “Daniel, are you sure you know what you’re doing? You’re still very sick. You may not be rational yet. It would be a good idea to wait—“ 

“No, it _wouldn’t_ , Janet _._ Now, get me the hell outta here.” He glared at her. The glare softened with shame. “Please?” 

“This is against my better judgment,” Fraiser announced sternly. “And I want your solemn promise that, as soon as you get your piece said, you’ll high-tail it back here and get into bed for a few more days.” 

“As long as I know Jack’s okay, it’s a deal.” He sighed, the lump forming in his throat again. He knew Janet was right. “But I’m staying as long as it takes to make sure he’s all right.” He wiped at his eyes. “Jeez, I’m crying at the drop of a hat,” he observed. “I’m never like this, with my emotions so raw. I feel like I’m falling apart.” 

“That’s your hormones gone wild,” Janet explained patiently. “And crying won’t kill you. It’s good for what ails ya, believe me.”  She gave him a knowing smile.  “That’s something women have known for centuries.” 

Sam helped him get to a wheelchair and sign out of the infirmary. Teal’c gave him a hand getting dressed in the SG-1 locker room. When they were ready, the trio made their way topside and piled into Sam’s Volvo, hitting the road for Jack’s cabin in the wilderness just as snow began to fall on Cheyenne Mountain. 

The trip would offer more recovery time, so that by their arrival, Daniel hoped he’d be feeling much better.  He slept most of the way in the back seat, stretched out with a pillow and blankets they’d borrowed from the infirmary.  He roused only to eat and force down some water when the others told him it was time, and make the occasional pit stops.  Whenever he was awake, his mind was busy trying to figure out exactly what Jack needed to hear to offset the damage Daniel had done to him. 

He remembered Jack taking him in his arms as they’d dismounted the motorcycle at the alien Stargate, and the exhilarating feeling of Jack rutting against him. He’d seen the hunger in those brown eyes, had felt the strength of Jack’s passion and his love. In that instant, he’d seen clearly just how deeply Jack’s feelings for him went, and the monster he’d been had taken that knowledge and used it to try to escape.  Daniel had heard the invitation come from his lips, and when he’d lain moments later in Jack’s arms, bleeding from the bullet wound, he’d known even then that Jack might never recover from what they’d done together. 

They’d crossed the uncrossable line, and now that the illness was gone, they would have to help each other deal with the aftermath. If Jack wanted to pretend it never happened, Daniel would have to accept that, because Jack didn’t want Daniel as a lover. He wasn’t gay. 

Neither was Daniel, but that moment on the alien world with Jack grinding him into the thick moss carpet had done something to Daniel. The visions still lingered. Almost like some kind of forbidden door had been thrown open, the desire to make love with Jack still raged through his body and soul, every bit as powerful now as it had been during the height of his illness. 

Daniel knew Jack had a solid image of himself as a warrior, a cynic and a man. Shifting that identity into uncharted territory could leave him adrift. His sense of self was probably broken now, shattered into tiny bits, and Daniel had to help Jack come to terms with that, to find himself again. 

He looked out the window at the snow-covered scenery flying by, and imagined. Loving Jack would be an incredible thing.  Daniel wanted that; ached for it. But he believed it could never be because Jack couldn’t knowingly go there. As long as the connection between them had been an unconscious one, Jack had been okay with it, but on that nightmare world they had laid it out in the open and looked at it. That knowledge had to be devastating to his macho military friend.  

Daniel had to turn away from that bright promise, to deny the golden chains of spirit that bound them inextricably together, and pretend the apple hadn’t been eaten in their visit to that bizarre Garden of Eden. He knew Jack well enough to believe he’d need help finding equilibrium, and for that, they had to talk. Daniel was willing to give up his lingering dreams as long as he knew Jack would be whole again, even if it meant the end of their friendship. That was a price Daniel was willing to pay, as long as Jack was all right. He was all that mattered to Daniel Jackson. 

* * *

 

Jack flicked the ash from the lit cigarette he held in his left hand, a pen in his right, and stared down at the words he’d written on the tablet. 

_Daniel,_

_You’ll understand why I did this._

He threw down his pen, unable to think of anything else to say.  

“Well, _fuck_ ,” he whispered aloud.  His hands were trembling.  Taking another drag on the cigarette, he blew the smoke out in a long stream, eyes narrowing at the unaccustomed sting from the tobacco.  He dropped the butt into the dregs of beer in the bottle sitting on the worn, scarred table beside him, and raised his eyes to the familiar cabin interior, which hadn’t changed one iota in the whole forty-eight years of Jack’s life. 

It was a single small room with a bed in the far corner, a fireplace halfway across the south wall, with the kitchen area between the fireplace and the front door. In the center of the room, a rocking chair sat next to a ratty old overstuffed chair covered in dark green cloth. Both were facing the hearth with a small table between them. Jack sat at the dining table at the opposite end of the cabin from the fireplace, gazing out at the rest of the room, his forearms resting against the scarred wood.  

He’d brought his old service pistol with him.  He glanced to his left, looking at where he’d put it, freshly cleaned, an open box of ammo just beside it.  One bullet was already in the chamber, ready for use.  One was all he’d need. 

He dragged his eyes back to the page and stared at the name he’d written. 

Daniel. 

_That mouth pressed against his neck. His arms around Daniel, holding him close. Fucking him into the ground with everything he had._

“Ah, hell!” Jack rasped. 

He got up quickly from the table and began to pace. He stopped only to pick up the bottle of scotch from the table between the chairs.  He took a long, deep swallow, feeling the potent liquor burn its way down his throat. Setting it back down again, he ran his hands through his silver-brindled hair, leaving it standing on end. 

“Jesus Christ!” he swore, images flashing through his mind, images he couldn’t handle.  

_Daniel naked in his bed, spreading his legs for Jack, meeting every thrust with one of his own, howling with pleasure…_

He looked down at himself, at the erection swelling in his pants, and struggled to make it go away.  He was ashamed of how that made him feel. He just wanted all of it to stop coursing through his mind. There was only one thing he could think of that would make the unwelcome fantasies stop. 

He glanced at the pistol, then tore his eyes away and lifted them to the ceiling _. Not yet,_ he told himself. _Gotta be calm. Gotta be ready. Gotta be sure._ After all, there was no coming back from the trip he was thinking of taking. 

He took a seat in the rocking chair and picked up the book he’d been reading, turning to the dog-eared page and finding the place where he’d left off.  _All Quiet on the Western Front_ was arguably the greatest war novel of all time.  He’d found it on the bookshelf over the bed when he’d arrived at the cabin, picked it up and started to read it for the first time since his college days.  He’d found the story satisfying, a reminder of what he was doing with his life. 

_”At once a new warmth flows through me. These voices, these quiet words, these footsteps in the trench behind me recall me at a bound from the terrible loneliness and fear of death by which I had been almost destroyed. They are more to me than life, these voices, they are more than motherliness and more than fear; they are the strongest, most comforting thing there is anywhere: they are the voices of my comrades.”_

Jack read the passage he loved so well, his eyes lifting from the page as the familiar words resonated inside him, bringing an oddly off-balance sense of peace. They were a soldier’s words, conveying a soldier’s sensibility in a time of war almost a century before Jack sat reading in that humble cabin.  They described a bond that had kept the author attached, grounded in a universe turned upside down and made alien and ugly.  The writer might have been a German, but he understood what it felt like to be Colonel Jack O’Neill. 

Even though this Colonel O’Neill wasn’t the same man he’d been a week earlier. The man he had recognized in the mirror then was a soldier, a straight arrow. Someone he understood.  The man he’d seen that morning when he awakened from his day of uninterrupted sleep was a stranger, one whose mind was filled with thoughts that disturbed and disoriented him. 

_Daniel’s mouth on his neck. Holding him. Wanting him. Fucking him. Wanting to do it again and again, even now when Daniel wasn’t a vampire anymore._

That wasn’t a Colonel O’Neill he could be. 

He directed his gaze at the pistol, lying in perfect repose on the table behind him. 

_“I don’t wanna die,” said Daniel gently in his memory. “It’s a shame you’re in such a hurry to.”_

Those words echoed in Jack’s mind as he relaxed into the rocker, closing his eyes and summoning up a vision of that handsome face, entreating him to live. After all they’d been through – Abydos to Vis Uban and everything afterward – Jack couldn’t leave Daniel to deal with the aftermath of this most recent event in their lives all alone. 

It wasn’t Daniel’s fault, and it wasn’t his, either. He decided they’d just have to find some other way to deal with it. Suicide was a coward’s way out, and Jack wasn’t a coward. 

He wondered if Daniel would be able to stomach the sight of him now, knowing what they’d done on that planet. He didn’t want to lose Daniel’s friendship. With a little luck, maybe Daniel wouldn’t even remember what had happened while he’d been sick. 

Jack leaned his head against the high back of the rocker, and there it was again.  _Kissing Daniel.  Holding him in his arms.  Touching him all over._  No matter how he tried, he was helpless to make the fantasies stop. 

Daniel was the emotionally charged one on their team; the guy with the bleeding heart. He was a babbling brook whose gentle insistence had cut a grand canyon into an old soldier’s heart of stone, and Jack was the flame that kept the archaeologist warm when he needed it, flaring into potent wrath when anyone or anything threatened the younger man. 

Jack O’Neill never let just anyone know he had a heart. Daniel, Carter and Teal’c all seemed to be able to find it whenever they wanted, but few others managed to get past that prickly exterior, and that was how he liked it. 

He lifted his eyes and stared at the wall, the next passage from that favorite book he’d been reading leaping to mind. _  
_

_“I am no longer a shuddering speck of existence, alone in the darkness; -- I belong to them and they to me; we all share the same fear and the same life, we are nearer than lovers, in a simpler, harder way; I could bury my face in them, in these voices, these words that have saved me and will stand by me.”_

Carter... Teal’c... Daniel... These were the words Jack O’Neill carried with him through their secret war against an alien race; theirs were the voices that kept him from the darkness in his own soul.  They owned him and he, them, in that deceptively simple but very difficult way that was so much more intimate than sex. Life was the breath they shared daily, the bread they broke together in damp forests, the blanket that kept them warm as they slept while one of their number always remained on guard, watching over the others. 

Daniel had saved him so many times, standing by him without question or thought of reward, putting up with his daily doses of disrespect and foul temper with hardly a grumble. Daniel had offered him immortality before, and Jack had turned it down. He’d come so close to agreeing in Ba’al’s prison, to letting Daniel show him the way, mostly because he’d wanted to be _with Daniel_ again. Jack had turned it down because he’d known ascension wasn’t right for him. He’d have been miserable without a body, unable to act to change things, just as Daniel had been, struggling desperately to toe the Ancients’ line and still find a way to help his friends. 

He recalled that moment on this last mission, at the alien Stargate when he’d held Daniel’s bleeding, fever-wracked body in his arms, and Daniel had begged him to try again to kill him. Jack realized fate had found a way to put him in Daniel’s shoes, replaying that ordeal in Ba’al’s prison in reverse. Daniel had found _another_ way to save Jack’s life, just as Jack had done with Daniel. They would have to find a way to go on together somehow. Jack simply couldn’t face losing him or leaving his friend to deal with this alone. 

The sound of a car pulling up abruptly yanked him from his reverie. A door slammed, and then the vehicle motored away, returning the landscape outside to silence. He wasn’t expecting anybody, but still a car had come and gone, so he supposed he should investigate. 

Jack rose from his chair with a yawn, almost ready for a nap, but not quite. He opened the cabin door to check on his property, his index finger wedged between the pages of the book, the bottle of scotch tucked beneath his left arm to allow him a free hand for the door. He stood there, staring at his unexpected – and unwelcome – visitor, who had his hand raised into a loose fist, preparing to knock on the now-open door. 

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Daniel asked hesitantly, lowering his hand. 

Jack noticed that he was still way too pale, and a little green around the gills with dark circles under his eyes, but that wasn’t getting him in the door.  His ride could just damn well turn around and come back for him. Jack wasn’t ready for this. Not yet.  “No.” 

Daniel blinked at him as he put out one hand to steady himself on the doorjamb.  He took a ragged breath.  “You didn’t come to see me in the infirmary, so I thought…” He sighed. “Look, Jack, we have to talk.” 

“No.  We don’t.”  Jack shut the door in Daniel’s face as he turned, taking the bottle in hand again, gripping it by the neck as he settled back into the antique rocking chair. 

This was absolutely the last thing he needed, to have the object of his affection, lust, anguish and bitter regret standing there in the room with him. Part of him knew Daniel wouldn’t just go away, though. 

Jack’s insides quivered, wishing there were some place to hide, but the cabin was awfully small, and he was well aware how persistent Doctor Jackson could be when he wanted something.  And what he wanted at the moment was to talk. 

What Jack wanted was to kiss him senseless and fuck him through the bed, the sooner the better.  How was he supposed to think clearly enough to carry on a conversation with all that tearing up his insides?  He could barely remember his own name right then, and suddenly he knew there wasn’t nearly enough booze in his bottle. 

With a shaky hand, he lifted the scotch to his lips as the door swung open, and Daniel stepped inside, stomping the snow off his boots on the mat.  “I thought vampires couldn’t come in unless they’re invited.”  

“That’s strictly fiction,” Daniel grouched bitterly, shutting the door and hanging up his coat, “and I’m not a vampire. At least, not anymore... Though I do have an appointment to have that oral surgery next week to get rid of the evidence.” 

He glanced at the table, spotted the tablet, pen and pistol and went over to it. He picked up the tablet, read Jack’s short note to him, and threw it down again with a huff of released breath.  He reached for the pistol, picked it up, and efficiently ejected the bullet from the chamber.  He dropped it into the open box of ammo and then put the box in his pocket.  When he was satisfied there were no more bullets in the gun, he closed the slide and set it back down on the table where he’d found it. 

Daniel dropped into the other chair in front of the fireplace to warm his hands near the flames, looking for all the world like he was making himself right at home. 

“Sorry,” Jack shot back irritably, “I seem to be fresh out of wooden crosses, garlic or silver. Got any other ideas how I can get you to take a hike?” 

Daniel sighed, leaning back in his chair. He put one leg over the other knee, his hands on his thighs, and regarded his friend with an assessing look that brooked no nonsense.  “Look, we need to talk, Jack. And as much as I know you don’t want to, it’s absolutely _necessary_ that we get things out in the open, now, while we can. I won’t be doing much talking for a week or so after the surgery.” 

"Ah, silence is golden." Jack turned his gaze to the book in his hands and set the bottle down. He opened up the volume again, searched the page for where he’d left off, and said nothing. He’d let his chatty teammate say his piece while Jack read. Daniel couldn’t make him listen. 

“Yes, I _do_ understand,” Daniel murmured, jerking a thumb toward the table and the unfinished suicide note, “but you don’t have to go that route.  Seems to me I told you that a long time ago.” 

“This time’s different,” Jack answered, his voice low, passionless and flat. “ _Everything’s_ different.  I changed my mind, anyway, so stop worryin’. I just hadn’t put all that away yet.”  

Daniel nodded in approval, but Jack didn’t look up, just kept watch with his peripheral vision and tried to concentrate on his book.   

“I’m glad to hear you changed your mind, Jack,” Daniel said with real relief in his voice.  “None of this was your fault.  You weren’t in control of your thoughts. Of anything. And neither was I. Not really.” 

O’Neill’s eyes darted angrily to the other man’s face. Instantly, he was pissed off. He _really_ didn’t want to talk about what had happened at the Stargate in New Transylvania.  It was embarrassing. It was humiliating. It was the end of things, and he just wasn’t ready to face Daniel yet. Not about any of it. 

He closed his eyes as yet again the images and sensations slammed into him with primal force.  _  
_

_Daniel’s mouth on his neck, cold and hungry. The fear of someone he once knew so well, turning into something hideous. The horror of feeding a monster with his own blood. The passion. The rush of abject need to be inside Daniel, or Daniel inside him…  
_

In spite of himself, he moaned, his face heating up in mortification. 

Wrenching his eyes open, Jack slapped the book shut and threw it across the room with every ounce of vehement outrage he could muster.  

“God _damn_ it!”  he ground out between clenched teeth, pouncing to his feet to put some space between him and Daniel.  His shoulders were up around his ears and twitching. He rubbed at the back of his neck, remembering, struggling to deal with what they had done. 

“You did your _job_ ,” Daniel said tensely, tipping his head back against the chair to watch his friend through narrowed eyes.  "What happened to me wasn’t anyone’s fault, especially not yours. None of us really understood the danger. And we couldn't have guessed Rawnie would do that to me on purpose. We were all victims, Jack. _All_ of us."  

Rounding on him, Jack felt his blood pressure shoot through the roof. _“I_ was responsible for letting you get taken off by that Rawnie bitch!  I took my eyes off you and wasn’t doing my fucking job!  And _I'm_ responsible for taking you back to the Stargate in that condition, Daniel,” he shouted, jerking his thumb toward himself. “Me!  Not you!  I’m trained to _resist_ that kind of mind-fuck, goddammit! I _am_ responsible. For giving in. For fucking you--” 

His voice broke and he turned away, memories of that act scorching his insides, flipping his stomach around, tying it in knots.  “Oh, my God,” he moaned helplessly to himself.  “God fucking _damn_.”  He leaned over at the waist, his hands on his knees, breathing harshly through his mouth, fighting down the nausea threatening to overwhelm him. 

Daniel rose from his chair and took a step toward him. The creaking floorboards announced his approach. 

Jack bolted and crossed the small room to get away from him.  He stood with his back to the wall like a cornered animal, worrying at his neck, refusing to look at his visitor. “Don’t,” he warned harshly, one hand held out in front of him to ward Daniel off. “Just… don’t.” 

“You couldn’t help yourself,” Daniel assured him in a gentle voice, returning wearily to his chair. He stared at the floor.  “I _know,_ because I was manipulating you.  I’m ashamed to admit it, but I knew _exactly_ what I was doing. Even when I…” His fingers touched his mouth. He closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky sigh. He pointed to his own neck, grimacing with a shake of his head, unable to say the words to describe what he'd done. 

Deciding that he really did need to get his hands on Daniel, knock some sense into him and get him to get the fuck away from him, Jack crossed the room in four big strides and grabbed him with both hands.  He shook him, hard, rage pouring even more strength into it than he’d intended. He heard Daniel’s teeth rattle, and his glasses fell into his lap. 

“You _kissed_ me, you fuck!”  Jack glared down at Daniel, sitting stunned in his chair, hands lifted to ward Jack off him. 

For a moment, Daniel just sat there. He lowered his hands as Jack let go of him and straightened up. Daniel’s voice was tense when he spoke, icy. “You need to understand something.  I didn’t _kiss_ you, Jack.” 

“Yes, you _did!”_ Jack raged, shouting now as if Daniel were deaf.  He pointed to the high collar of the black turtleneck sweater he was wearing. “I’ve still got the goddamn _hickey_ on my neck!” 

“I wasn’t _kissing_ you,” Daniel insisted tightly. “I was _tasting_ you. There’s an enormous, _hideous_ difference.” A tear rolled down his cheek, and he swiped at it impatiently with one hand. 

Jack turned away, violently unsettled by that thought. It made him want to vomit. “Just go away,” he ordered thickly. “You make me sick.  I can’t stand to look at you.” He turned around and looked at him anyway, drawn to Daniel like a moth to a bright, deadly flame. 

“I know.” Daniel sighed wearily. “I can’t stand to look at _myself._ Looking in the mirror while I brush my teeth makes me ill, especially since I have fangs now. Only I can’t take a vacation from myself, now, can I?”  

He wrapped his arms around his ribs, looking like he was trying to hold his breaking heart inside.  “Jack, you were influenced by pheromones. They made you crazy, made you confused. I know, because the disease had the same effect on me, too.” 

His eyes were pleading, aching. “Rawnie’s boyfriend was the one who infected me. I was so under his influence I’d have done anything he wanted.” Daniel shook his head, averting his gaze as he remembered.  “ _Anything_ ,” he whispered.  “My God. I’m not like that. I don’t--” 

Jack watched Daniel swallow hard, saw the tears running down his cheeks.  No one had to tell Jack what was going through the other man’s mind at that moment. He could see the horrible truth in those blue eyes, could imagine Daniel giving himself to that alien man without the slightest protest.  His silent confession was all over Daniel’s face. And Jack knew what that had to be doing to his friend. 

_“Anything_ ,” Daniel repeated with tortured emphasis. “Do you understand me?  I was just like you were with me, so I know.  I get what happened to you.  I was aroused; so fucking horny I couldn’t think. I came _all over him_ , Jack! That sickness – it made us not care. It made us unable to distinguish the difference between man and woman, because it’s all just your sex drive on overload. What happened to both of us was strictly chemical. That’s all. You’re not any different in how you’re oriented now than you were before you left on that mission.  And neither am I.” 

Jack paced, still rubbing at the back of his neck. The things Daniel was saying made sense. The logic of it helped to calm him, but deep down in the pit of his soul, Jack knew he still had feelings that couldn’t be blamed on that pheromone thing.  Feelings that went deeper than he wanted to admit. Daniel was the best friend he’d ever had, that was for certain. They connected on a level that was scary, when he let himself think about it. But there Daniel was, telling him that everything was the same as it had ever been between them, and Jack wanted so desperately to believe him. 

Jack stood still, the weight on his soul lightening by degrees as he considered what the other man had said, his hand resting lightly now on the back of his neck, still and relaxed. 

He understood now. He and Daniel would risk anything to be together, to protect each other and keep the other safe. Not even death could come between them and keep them apart for very long. He couldn’t speak, but there was so much to say. He looked into those pleading, wounded eyes and conveyed the message in silence. 

_I forgive you, Daniel. I’m sorry. I still respect you._

Daniel’s expression gave his answer. _Thank you, Jack._   _I love_ _you more than I've ever loved anyone._

And there it was, welling up in those blue eyes, streaming with tears of regret and longing.  So easy to read, so wide open and afraid.  Daniel loved him. His heart was breaking because of what he’d done, the words he’d spoken under the influence of that terrible illness, and could never call back. 

Daniel plucked his glasses out of his lap where they still lay and put them on the table between the chairs with a weary sigh. “Jack, we have to work this out, or I’ll need to transfer to another team. Maybe even leave the SGC all together. We can’t work together with things like this between us.” 

“We _have_ to,” Jack rasped, certain now that they would get past this somehow, though things might be strained between them for a while. “And you’re not going _anywhere._ I won’t _let_ you. Damn it, Daniel, you belong on SG-1!” 

“Maybe not anymore.” Daniel looked at the rack on the wall where the fishing gear was stored. He nodded toward a long, slender fiberglass rod and reel, drawing Jack’s gaze to the equipment. “See those rods and reels over there?  Well, I went fishing, too, Jack,” he said thoughtfully.  “I know you’ll understand this metaphor.”  His voice took on a haunted tone.  “You see, I had the perfect lure, and that big-mouthed bass went for it hook, line and sinker.” 

Jack’s stomach protested. This was just sick. But then, so Daniel had been, at the time. 

“I couldn’t see you as a human being,” Daniel went on softly. “You were an all-you-can-eat buffet. Chocolate walnut cookies and gourmet coffee. I was starving, but I couldn’t eat, because my teeth hadn’t finished forming.  But I wanted to keep that meal handy, for when I could.” He bowed his head and looked at his hands, clasped over his lap. “I needed just a taste to keep me going. Like licking the frosting off a piece of cake.” 

“Oh, for cryin' out loud...” Jack thought as a wave of nausea rolled up into his throat.  He grabbed his head with both hands and held on. "Just stop, Daniel!" He wanted to tell Daniel it was over, that he had his absolution, but there was that lump in his throat, making him gag. 

Daniel ignored his protests, refusing to be swayed from the purpose that had sent him to Jack that day.  “It was a seduction," Daniel went on, his tone gentle, almost tender, yet deeply haunted, "and I know at least part of you recognizes that. It bothers you. It bothers me, too, because that sickness made me want you like I’ve never...” 

He raised his brimming eyes, pleading for understanding, his voice trembling, filled with emotion. “You were a victim of biological and psychological manipulation. _By me._ In a way that tears me up inside. I don't feel like the same man anymore, Jack.  Now that I know what kind of monster I am underneath, I’m _acutely_ aware of it with every breath I take.” 

Jack closed his eyes. Daniel had been sick. He, too, was a victim of that horrible disease. The repercussions would be even more damaging to Daniel, because of the twisted way he’d learned to regard his friends, the people he loved. He’d seen them as _food_ , and that wasn’t an image that could ever be forgotten. It was the sort of undercurrent that could make a man like Daniel act rashly and get himself killed without even realizing he was courting death. 

_Like Jack had been on Abydos, that first time_. Like he’d been twenty minutes ago, before Daniel walked in the door. And now it was _his_ turn to save his visitor, to help him get his feet back under him again and recover from that devastating illness. 

“It wasn’t your fault, either, Daniel.” Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but it didn’t ease his guilt at all. “You're a good man, not a monster. And I… I knew it wasn't really you doing that to me. It was the disease. I could _see_ the difference, when you weren’t you." He lifted his eyes to meet his guest's. "We’ll deal with it. Somehow. It won't be easy, but we'll find a way. _All_ of us. The whole team.” 

Those big blue eyes filled with hope, too scared to try to grab onto it. "You won't… feel weird around me?" 

Jack pondered, thinking back, an edge of guilt still scraping into his heart. “I know a predator when one sucks on my neck. If it makes you feel any better, I was scared shitless, but I knew that wasn’t you then. You’re you now." 

“Good. That’s good. In a manner of speaking.” Daniel sighed with apparent relief. “I expect I’ll be talking with MacKenzie about this one for a long time. Whether I want to talk to _that_ man or not.” Another tear rolled down Daniel’s cheek as he made an effort to smile at his host. He swallowed hard. “You really think we’ll be okay with each other?” he asked softly, his voice thick with grief. 

“In time.” 

Daniel nodded, looking at the floor now, fresh tears rolling silently down his cheeks. He sighed. “The suicide rate for recovering Ferretu, especially those who had been fully converted, is at ninety percent,” Daniel told his CO flatly. “There’s a reason for that. And even though I wasn’t fully changed, even though I didn’t kill anyone… Jack, my humanity has been irrevocably violated. I don’t know that I can recover from this. You should have done what I asked. I begged you--” 

“You can _make_ it,” Jack assured him gently. “You’re stronger than you think you are right now, Daniel. And I’ll help you, just like you helped me when I was in such a hurry to die on Abydos." He remembered Daniel's earnestness, cutting through the haze of grief in his soul like a laser. That had been the man's second selfless act of friendship, reaching out to remind him that life was worth living, reconnecting him with the rest of the human race. "That’s what friends are for, y'know. I won’t _let_ you give up. Not if there’s anything I can do to prevent it. We've been there already. Remember?” 

Daniel gazed at him, eyes haunted and stricken. “I’m not sure I _want_ to live with this, Jack. It’s different from all the other shit we’ve been through together. Different in ways I’ll never be able to explain.” He bowed his head, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. 

“I think I get it.” 

“How could you?” Daniel demanded, his voice trembling with anguish. “You were on the receiving end. You didn’t know what was going on in my head.” 

Jack took a step closer, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch, but wanting to take Daniel into his arms and hold him. “You said it yourself, Daniel. I read you like a book. You may not be my preference in literature, but it's always an interesting story.” 

He made eye contact, feeling the soul-deep despair in the other man clearly. “It won’t be easy, granted, but it wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t blame yourself for anything you did or said while you were under the influence of Nirrti’s little nightmare.” 

“I trespassed on sacred ground, Jack. _Willfully._ Knowing how much it would hurt you. Knowing I could make you dance to my tune. I… raped you.” Daniel’s voice was filled with anguish, breathless and trembling. 

“Just like that other guy violated _you_ , Daniel.”  Jack sighed and hung his head, then lifted it to meet the other man’s eyes, holding his gaze as he returned to his seat in the rocking chair.  “And anyway, I forgive you.”  He blinked at Daniel a couple of times, thinking.  “Remember when Ma’chello’s nasty little bug got into you and made you nuts?” 

Pain flashed across Daniel’s face. He pouted mightily, voice firming up with irritation now. “Yes. And you didn’t have to bring _that_ up, thanks.” 

“Yeah, I did. ‘Cause you weren’t responsible then, either.” He remembered with excruciating clarity how he’d treated his younger friend. “We were all way too quick to give up on you, y’know? Because you were always a little on the flaky side—“ 

“I’m not flaky.” 

“—we were ready to just take MacKenzie’s diagnosis and write you off. It’s been pointed out to me since then that you’re…” 

_“Not_ flaky,” Daniel insisted, his eyes hot, mouth set with sullen anger. "A little preoccupied at times, maybe. But _not_ flaky." 

Jack glanced at the toes of his shoes, trying to compose his thoughts. There were things he just couldn’t say to Daniel's face. Like how much Jack cared. How much Daniel meant to him. How hard Jack held onto the friendship that ran so deeply between them. Those were things Jack O’Neill would never admit to anyone, but that the Sing had made him see with crystal clarity. 

_Fire and water,_ the old woman had said of them. _Ice and flame._ Sometimes Daniel made him steam, or froze him out when he was being pissy. Sometimes he made Daniel boil. But always they found a way to get back to that gently rolling stream that went with the flow, and the warm fire burning in the hearth.  

“Y'are sometimes,” Jack told him with a little smile, “but I’m not willing to turn my back on you, Daniel. I couldn’t do it when you were sick, and I damn sure can’t now that you’re well. You’re _necessary_. And not just to me.” 

He closed his eyes, flinching as he remembered the report of his pistol, the solid thud of Daniel’s body hitting the ground, and the panic that had surged up inside him at the assumption of his death, swept away a moment later as he had held Daniel's feverish body in his arms.  “I shot you.  I thought I’d fucking _killed_ you. I have to live with _that,_ you know.” 

“But you didn’t. And I still have a problem with that.” Those blue eyes were hot now with anger and retribution. 

Jack frowned and crossed his arms over his chest impatiently. Only Daniel Jackson would be mad at Jack for _not_ putting a bullet in his head. "Look, if we ever _really_ need to kill you, Daniel, I'll goddamned sure do it. But this time it wasn't necessary. Get over it." 

"You promise?" 

There was such a child-like quality to that plea that it cut Jack to the bone. This was a friendship worth keeping, and he’d be damned if he’d let some Goa’uld bug destroy it. He laced his fingers together over his lap, his elbows on the arms of his chair.  “Yeah, Daniel. I promise I won’t let you turn into anything hideous.” 

A flash of memory scorched him.  _Daniel’s mouth on his neck, gently sucking, his body rubbing against Jack’s, his cock half-hard._

With a start, Jack realized then that Daniel hadn’t been as aroused as he was. Daniel hadn’t come inside his robes, but Jack had done so in his pants. 

_Why hadn’t Daniel come?  Why hadn’t he been as horny as Jack? Was it all about control? Was that it? Or had Daniel been secretly horrified by what Jack had been doing to him?_

Jack had to know. 

He struggled to get the question out, staring at his boots rather than make eye contact.  He cleared his throat, pulling his courage close to his heart, wrapping himself up in it.  “Um.  About what happened.  You know?  After you.  Ah.  _Tasted_ me.” 

Daniel glanced away, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. “Do we really have to talk about that?” he asked, his voice suddenly tense.  He was hugging himself again, shoulders coming up around his ears. His expression and body language broadcast loud and clear that he was hiding something. 

Mouth drying up rapidly, Jack tried to swallow, gathering himself for this moment of unvarnished truth. “You didn’t come,” he ground out, half turning away, his face heating up with embarrassment. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Because you were grossed out by me humping you?” Something in Jack’s chest was burning. It felt like shame, and suddenly he wanted to die all over again. His hand went back to his neck, massaging at the tension there, but he couldn’t look away from Daniel’s profile, needing to see the truth in his expression. 

“No!” Daniel’s eyes shot up to meet his, glowing with panic. “I just… didn’t have the energy, Jack, or I would have. I swear to God, that was the hottest thing—“ He cut himself off abruptly and turned away, his body shaking, his head down. “Sorry. I wasn’t going to tell you… how that made me feel.” 

Jack reached across the table, his fingertips just touching the arm of the other chair. He was aching for Daniel now, for the anguish he was so obviously enduring. He picked at a small tear in the fabric of the dark green upholstery. “It’s okay, Daniel,” said Jack gently. “I thought it was sexy as hell, too. Obviously.”  

“Don’t patronize me, Jack,” Daniel shot back with a trembling sniff, wiping at his eyes. He stood up, putting his back to his friend to hide his face. “We both know it was just pheromones and mind-games. And I’m sorry I’m crying all over the place. Janet says my hormones are still seriously…” 

The moment Jack’s hands touched Daniel’s shoulders, he stopped talking. He turned around, startled as he stared into Jack’s eyes as he stood beside him now, uncertain what to expect. 

“I _meant_ that,” Jack assured him quietly, as he clasped Daniel’s neck in both hands. “I’ve _never_ been that turned on before, not by _anyone_. And as scared as I was of the whole vampire thing, I knew it was way more than just pheromones. It was more than just mindless fucking, Daniel. It’s just that, until right now, I didn’t think it went both ways.” 

Daniel seemed to wilt a little with relief. He leaned in, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist, his face tucked against Jack’s shoulder. “Jack,” he breathed. “Of _course_ I wanted you. So much it hurt. I was dying inside, knowing what I was doing to you. That’s not how I wanted it to be between us.”  

Struggling to swallow, Jack just held him close, his arms wrapped around Daniel’s shoulders. His heart ached. His throat hurt. The fantasies returned with a vengeance, and Jack knew _this_ wasn’t the result of some alien disease. The disease had simply opened the door to feelings that had been there all along, hiding in the depths of his soul. 

He tightened his embrace, pressing a kiss into Daniel’s hair as the other man responded in kind, his hands smoothing up and down Jack’s back, comforting in their slowness. 

He had to know if Daniel still felt that way. Jack gathered up his heart and leaped, flying out into space with nothing but his faith in Daniel’s love to catch him.  “Do you… Do you _still_ … want me?” he whispered. 

Daniel’s hands stopped moving. He pulled back enough so they could look at each other.  There was astonishment and disbelief written all over his face.  “Jack?” 

He didn’t even have to say anything for the question Daniel hadn’t really asked to be answered. Jack saw the hope dawning in Daniel’s eyes, felt him getting hard and did nothing to stop his own dick from swelling. He smiled, his voice gentle and warm. “Daniel?” 

The kiss Daniel gave him then nearly knocked him down. Jack staggered back under the hungry assault, his wits scattered by the passion of Daniel’s response. When Jack recovered his balance, he grasped at the hem of Daniel’s sweater and started pulling it up. Daniel took the hint and did the same with Jack’s. 

They broke apart to pull their sweaters off, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, panting from arousal and need, questioning each other with their eyes. 

“You feel okay?” asked Jack uncertainly. He’d seen how weak and tired Daniel was, and knew what he’d been through the last few days had been excruciating. If they needed to wait, he’d find a way to do it. He had his answer and that was enough. 

“Just tired,” Daniel assured him. “But there’s no way I’m waiting. I _want_ you, Jack. Right here, right _now_ , even if I pass out in the middle of everything.” 

Jack pulled back, putting his mental brakes on at that remark. 

Daniel grinned. “I rested all the way up here, and I feel fine,” he promised. “But if I fall asleep afterward, don’t wake me up for a while, okay?” 

“You’re sure?” Jack prodded, his hands smoothing across Daniel’s bare shoulders. That contact went straight to Jack’s dick. He’d never touched another man like that, and it was incredibly arousing. 

With a broad smile, Daniel stepped around him and reached for his belt, unfastening it as he headed across the room toward the bed. He left clothes and shoes in his wake, and Jack was hot on his trail, heedless of where his own clothes landed. 

Daniel was first to reach the bed, sitting down and scooting backward, his eyes on Jack, who put one knee on the mattress and tackled Daniel into the blankets, all hands and mouth, touching and tasting him while Daniel struggled to do the same. 

Jack had never felt so desperate, so aroused, so utterly _right_ about anything else in his life. He and Daniel fought and wrestled, pushing and straining against each other, teeth clashing, hungry mouths sucking and eating each other. The sounds they made – harsh pants, deep grunts, sharp slaps of skin on skin – were unlike anything Jack had ever heard in a bedroom. These were more like battle sounds.  The feel of that heavily muscled body alternately above and beneath him, struggling for dominance and then submitting, giving and taking, was so new, so exciting, Jack realized he was totally out of control. 

He didn’t care. Daniel _wanted_ him. Daniel _needed_ him, needed Jack to do this with him, so he could recover.  And Jack needed Daniel, so that he, too, could heal. 

Daniel’s legs were wrapped around him, hanging on tightly. His hands clawed at Jack’s back, desperate to pull him closer, but the only way Jack could be closer was to be inside him. He glanced at the nightstand, lunging for the hand lotion he kept there in winter to keep his hands and face from chapping. Jack flipped the cap open one handed, but Daniel had him trapped and he couldn’t get loose to lubricate himself. 

“Let me go, Daniel,” he growled. 

“God, no!” Daniel wailed. “Don’t leave me, Jack, please!” 

“Lube,” he whispered roughly, breathlessly. “Not leaving you. Promise.” He held up the tube of lotion so Daniel could see it.  “Gonna fuck you.” 

Daniel nodded and relaxed his grip, allowing Jack to push himself upright, to his knees. He glanced down at himself as he applied the lotion, and for the first time, got a really good look at Daniel, sprawled out on the bed, stark naked and rock-hard – _all for him_. Daniel _wanted_ him, wanted _this,_ and that was simply amazing to Jack. 

With fingers still slick with lotion, Jack reached down and gripped Daniel’s cock, sliding his fingers down the smooth, curved shaft. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. 

Daniel gasped at his touch, arching away from the bed, eyes closing in bliss. “Jack,” he whispered in delight. “I love you. God! How I love you.” 

Tears were streaming out from beneath his closed lids. Daniel was lost in the grip of his raging emotions, reaching for Jack, spreading his legs wider, his eyes begging when he managed to open them. 

“Love you, too, Daniel,” Jack breathed. “For so long…” 

He took his own cock in hand and aimed it, but the angle was wrong. Scooping one hand under Daniel’s buttocks, he lifted them, and Daniel curled up, putting his calves on Jack’s shoulders. Jack watched himself as he targeted the tightly puckered opening and wondered how it would feel. He hoped it would be good for Daniel, because he had very little idea what he was doing. 

Jack pushed, struggling to go slow. He hadn’t given Daniel any sort of preparation and hoped he wasn’t hurting him. Daniel’s sharp gasp answered that question, and Jack started to pull out. 

“Don’t!” Daniel cried. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Jack.” 

“But—“ 

Daniel lifted his head off the pillow, azure eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare pull out!” he ordered through gritted teeth, dimples flaring with every word. 

_God, Daniel Jackson was the hottest thing Jack had ever seen!_ Desire shot straight to his dick, and Jack knew he was doomed. There was no turning back now. He eased deeper, watching Daniel squirm and groan against the pillows. Jack was losing what little control he had left as he saw Daniel’s wild abandon, watched him writhing on Jack’s dick. 

Catching hold of Daniel’s shaft, he squeezed it, sliding his fingers over the hot, slick skin. Jack couldn’t just kneel there; he had to move.  He leaned down closer, holding himself up with one hand as he sank fully into Daniel to the sound of a hoarse, ragged cry of pain. 

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” said Jack, his throat tight with emotion. He touched Daniel’s face with his free hand, fingers shaking wildly, trying to comfort him as best he could. 

“No,” Daniel gasped, his eyes tightly closed. He shook his head against the pillow. “Don’t stop, Jack! Hurts _good_.” His ass squeezed and Jack howled in response, the pleasure almost more than he could bear. 

He groaned as he pulled back a little, thrusting gently into his lover and friend. Daniel’s arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him down for a kiss, quick and fierce. His eyes opened as Jack straightened slightly, finding his rhythm, drinking in the wonder and love in those crystal blue depths. 

“I’m fucking you, Daniel,” Jack rumbled breathlessly. “I’ve got my dick up your ass, and I’m _loving_ it. Loving _you._ Always have.” 

Daniel shook his head, panting as he spoke. “No. Not always. But forever. From now on. Only _you_ , Jack. _No one else.”_

“Yes,” Jack gasped in agreement. 

They were looking into each other’s eyes, rocking to the rhythm of a dance as old as time. Jack’s hand on Daniel’s cock matched his every thrust, every surge, until Daniel’s eyes closed and he bowed up beneath Jack’s chin, pulsing and grunting with ecstasy Jack shared, pulling him into the same maelstrom of pleasure.  With a harsh groan, he emptied himself into Daniel’s body, opening his eyes just in time to see the last spurts of Daniel’s come splatter on his lover’s face and chest. 

“I made you come,” Jack whispered in wonder. He wiped a glob of the thick whitish stuff off Daniel’s cheek and stared at it on his fingertips. 

Daniel’s face reddened slightly, and he smiled shyly. “Yeah, you did, Jack. Did you really doubt you would?” 

Slowly, Jack sat up, letting Daniel uncurl and bring his legs down so he could get a deep breath. “You okay?” he asked quietly, looking his friend over carefully, amazed at how sexy and hot he still looked, especially splattered with his own semen. 

Jack brought his fingertips up to his nose and sniffed. Then he tasted it, and gave Daniel a big smile. “How about a blowjob next time?” he asked. 

“I _love_ having my dick sucked, Jack,” Daniel admitted breathlessly, relaxing back into the pillows. 

“And I love hearing you talk dirty,” Jack shot back, his grin widening. He gently pulled himself the rest of the way out, listening to Daniel’s small gasps at the lingering soreness.  He stared at Daniel’s asshole for a moment. It was reddened and swollen, and some of his come was leaking out. 

_He’d just fucked Daniel._ They were lovers now. And Jack O’Neill was okay with that. More than okay. He thought it was _the best thing in the world._

He stretched out on the bed beside Daniel and draped an arm over his waist. “This pretty much changes everything, huh?” he stated quietly. 

“We’ll figure it out. Together.” Daniel’s hand smoothed across Jack’s arm, tickling the hair as he rubbed his fingertips back and forth. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Jack?” 

Jack nodded against the pillows. “Yeah. I’m good. No need to worry about me. I got just what I needed.” 

Daniel sobered. “Me?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah. You.” Lifting himself up on one elbow, Jack leaned over and kissed him then, exploring Daniel’s face with his fingertips while their mouths were busy. 

Then Jack’s tongue brushed against the roof of Daniel’s mouth, and he jerked away.  “Shit! When are you supposed to have the surgery to remove those fangs?” he asked unhappily, shaken to the core by what he’d touched. 

“Next week, if I’m out of the infirmary by then.” Daniel suddenly looked guilty. His gaze slipped away. 

“You’re not in the infirmary _now,”_ Jack pointed out grimly, suddenly suspicious. “Are you supposed to be?” 

“Um.” 

Jack heard Daniel swallow. 

“I left for a _very_ good reason,” Daniel assured him, holding up one finger in his making-a-point gesture. “I had to make sure you were okay. Practically had to lash Janet to an IV pole to get out of there.” 

Glowering at his lover, Jack put on his stern face. “Then why the hell did you let me take you to bed, when you were still sick? Daniel, I swear, you need a keeper.” 

_Blink.  
_

_Blink._

“Isn’t that your job?” asked Daniel with mock innocence. Then his lips quirked up into a mischievous grin. He pointed to his mouth, obviously anxious to change the subject. "Wanna see ‘em?" 

For a second, Jack just stared at him. He grinned back, recognizing a moment of boyish fun when one was waved in his face. "Sure.  Show me them big honkin' teeth." 

Daniel tipped his head back and opened wide. 

Ducking down, Jack peered into Daniel's mouth and gave a low whistle. "Ewww, gross! They're gonna have to rearrange your whole _head_ to get rid o' those." He cuddled closer, certain Daniel wouldn’t have willingly shown that to anyone else without a medical degree. "Kinda like a snake's fangs, right? They fold up into the roof of your mouth, till it's wide open?" 

"Yeah. They're kinda cool… in a… very _sick_ way. Can't _wait_ to get rid of 'em." 

“I’m glad I didn’t ask for a blowjob,” Jack teased. 

Daniel’s eyes rolled right on cue. 

Jack settled down on him again, his head on Daniel’s chest, listening to the comforting, perfectly normal beating of his heart. “How soon do you need to get back?” 

“Janet said as long as I rested and got plenty of fluids, I’d be fine.” 

Silence stretched between them. 

“She’s gonna be able to tell what we did,” Jack rumbled. “And she knows who you went to see.” 

“Yeah. But I’ll bet she keeps that part of the doctor/patient privilege,” Daniel returned, petting Jack’s sweaty, mussed hair. “She knows what we do is important. Way more important than how we spend our off-duty time.” 

Jack lifted his head and looked Daniel in the eye. “I’m not giving you up,” he announced. “If it costs me my job or anything else, I still want us to be together. All right?” 

The smile he got from that declaration was blinding.  “Yeah, Jack. I feel the same way.” 

“Good. Then we’ll have a little nap, get cleaned up and get you back to the base and a bed where you can rest. ‘Cause you’re damn sure not gonna get much rest in _my_ bed.” 

“Promise?” Daniel chuckled. “Because we’ve both been celibate for way too long. Lots of lost time to make up.” 

“Why, Daniel Jackson! Are you telling me you’re horny?”  Jack reached down for the quilt at the foot of the bed and pulled it up over them. 

Daniel’s grin was positively filthy. “You have no idea,” he rumbled, his voice low and dirty. 

“Well, good,” said Jack emphatically, snuggling down on the pillow beside Daniel’s head, nestling in for a nap. “Because when you get well, we’re gonna have to try it the other way. You had such a good time, I gotta know what it feels like, too.” 

“You might not like it,” Daniel advised. “It hurts at first. But once you get used to it… Wow! _Best sex ever._ ” 

Jack’s eyes opened. He played idly with Daniel’s left nipple, thinking about what he’d just said. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Daniel’s arm around his shoulders tightened. “It’s okay. We’ll research and figure out how it’s supposed to be done.  Get some real lube.  And then we’ll practice a _lot.”_ He cleared his throat. “Um. You know, Jack, what you’re doing there… That’s turning me on.” 

“Oh.” Jack could see Daniel’s cock starting to harden and, as much as he wanted to continue and go for seconds, he knew Daniel was still weak and didn’t need the extra activity. He mercifully stopped his tender plucking at Daniel’s body. “Later, then. When you’re well.” Jack closed his eyes, his body limp and sated, and was asleep in seconds flat. 

* * *

 

A couple of hours later, they were bathed and dressed, back in the living room and waiting for Daniel’s ride to return. 

Daniel sat limply in his chair, staring at the rough wood floor, one hand wiping over his pale, drawn face. "What a nightmare! I just keep wanting to wake up and find out it was all just a dream. A bad, sick dream. And that I'm just a guy with no vampire fangs in my head." He shivered violently. "Ewwww. _That's_ gonna give me nightmares for _ever_." 

Jack bent down and kissed him on the lips, light and quick, a sweet gesture of affection. “You’ll be okay, Batman. Because I’ll be right there with ya, kickin' your ass whenever you need it.” He paused. “And when this is all over and your mouth is fixed, we’ll never talk about _this_ twisted little adventure ever again, right?” 

“Definitely not. Let’s just wipe this one off the books completely.” 

“I'm just sayin'... Want some coffee?” 

“Yeah, 'til Sam and Teal’c get here. We’ll work this out, Jack. I promise. You’re needed at the SGC and the regulations are stupid. I’ve always thought that, even before--” He glanced at Jack. “—Before us. Are you sure you wanna do this with me?” 

“Yeah.” Jack told him, more certain of this than he had been of anything else in his life. “No doubts, Daniel. Not a damn one.” 

* * *

 

“I don’t want you to go,” whispered Jack against Daniel’s mouth as they stood just inside the cabin door. 

The call had already been made, and Sam and Teal’c would be there at any second. Now he and Jack had to say good-bye, to step outside and pretend nothing had happened between them, and both were reluctant to return to their lives as if nothing between them had changed. 

“Have to,” Daniel assured him, his fingers greedy for Jack’s hair and skin. 

“Gotta get you well,” Jack agreed, disappointment clear in his voice at their impending separation. “And then…” 

“Yeah. Lots and lots.” Daniel was smiling now, loving the hungry little kisses Jack was placing all around his mouth, on his cheeks, against his closed eyelids. 

Their conversation wouldn’t have made much sense to anyone else, but they understood each other perfectly. So often, each just knew what the other was thinking. A glance spoke volumes and made words unnecessary. 

Daniel knew where that had started between them.  He eased reluctantly out of Jack’s embrace, slid his glasses back onto his face, and strolled outside to wait for his ride, leaving Jack inside to compose himself and will away that glorious hard-on Daniel had felt in his pants. Body humming with desire and trembling from fatigue, Daniel walked out to where he’d been dropped off earlier, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes, remembering how they’d begun. 

Abydos came clearly to mind, the remembered heat from that desert world warming him deeply. 

It had taken Daniel years to realize what had happened to them in that desert storm, refusing to look at their relationship too closely, aware on some level that it was different from anything he’d ever experienced. Not until that alien disease took hold of him did he truly understand just how deeply the connection between them went. 

They had both accepted where the disease had taken them. They were lovers now. Daniel wasn’t drawn to men, couldn’t think of them as sexual partners, but it was different with Jack. 

What he felt for Jack went far beyond the range of sexual identity. They shared a part of each other’s being. He’d have done anything for Jack, anything he wanted, regardless of the personal cost. And now he was walking into a whole other life, a universe of infinite possibilities, because both men had finally realized what they were to each other. 

_Soulmates.  
_

Standing there outside Jack’s simple cabin, his boots deep in the snowy edge of the walkway, Daniel felt tears brimming, but kept his eyes closed. He took those feelings that could never be openly expressed and tucked them away, deep inside himself, for later. He inhaled the cold, clean air, his head swimming with fatigue and illness as he heard Sam’s car approaching. 

He felt himself give out and didn’t even try to stay on his feet.  But instead of landing face first in the snow, his body folded over a warm shoulder already in place to catch him, one strong hand clasping his wrist. Jack lifted him off his feet and carried him to the car.  Teal’c jumped out and opened a back door, allowing Jack to set him gently down on the seat. Teal’c stood nearby, holding the door open, while Jack squatted beside him in the doorway, helping him get his seat belt fastened. 

“Daniel, you have _got_ to take better care of yourself,” O’Neill told him sternly. “You’re a wreck! You shouldn’t be up walking around.” 

“This was important,” Daniel returned softly, apologetically, looking into those brown eyes _. I had to help you_ , he said in his heart. 

_I know,_ the eyes answered. _You’re always there when I need you most. Love you, Danny._

Jack nodded. “It’s gonna be okay,” he promised gently, patting Daniel’s cheek.  “I’ll see you soon, all right?” 

At Daniel’s weary smile and nod, Jack made eye contact with Sam in the driver’s seat. “I’ll meet you back at the base. Obviously, the only way we can keep this guy in bed is if he’s got all of us at hand.” 

He stood and looked at Teal’c with a mock frown. “Since when did ‘Colonel’ translate into ‘babysitter’?” 

The Jaffa nodded and gave him a knowing little smile as he closed Daniel’s door. 

“I’ll just go get my gear and lock the place up,” Jack announced, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the cabin. “You guys go on ahead and I’ll be an hour or so behind you. I’ll meet you back at the base.” He eyed Daniel through the glass. “Okay, Daniel?” 

Limp with happiness and exhaustion, Daniel gave him a thumbs-up and a little wave. 

Teal’c got into the front passenger seat and shut the door. Sam started the engine and backed out, leading the way down the slushy road to the highway. 

Daniel sighed as he looked out the window at the serene, snow-covered landscape. 

_Fire and water,_ he mused to himself. _Glacier and roaring inferno. Yin and yang. Total opposites at almost every turn… yet two sides of the same coin, each incomplete without the other; elementals forged into one being in the crucible of a storm that never seemed to cease blowing about them._

_He could live with that,_ he thought. As long as Jack was watching over him, loving him, he could live with anything. Like Pegasus, born of the hideous Gorgon’s lifeblood, Daniel had been given a shining, unexpected gift by the nightmare he had survived. The disease had forced him to step over a line he would not otherwise have crossed, and he had lured Jack to follow him. Now they were lovers, bound for life by choice, free to share themselves fully with each other, and none of that would have happened without that little jaunt into the _Twilight Zone_. 

He would never have expected _horror_ to give birth to _love_. _  
_

The gift of Jack’s love was worth everything he had been through, and given the option to go through it all again with the same outcome, he knew he’d do it in a heartbeat. Jack was worth it, because anyone loved by Jack O’Neill was loved forever. 

That was something Daniel Jackson wanted to keep. He’d had so few guarantees of anything in his life, and in his memories the cold, windy night of Abydos could not touch him because Jack’s arms were around him; Jack’s love protected him, and he did the same for Jack. Nothing could touch them now, because they had each other. 

Daniel let his body slide over on the seat and gave himself up to sleep, safe in the care of those he loved.  As he slept, the image of a luminous white-winged horse in flight against an azure sky carried him off into dreams of warm brown eyes, soft lips, silver hair and golden skin that went on forever beneath his reverent, loving touch. 

FIN


End file.
